


When Destiny Calls

by TheHood13



Series: Destined for Redemption [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Supergirl (TV 2015), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 61,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26221897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHood13/pseuds/TheHood13
Summary: When Oliver Queen’s team perished at the hands of Adrian Chase on Lian Yu, Oliver swore to himself to never wear the hood again. He ended his crusade and focused on raising his son, William, and on saving Star City as the mayor.7 years have passed, and it is now 2024. Oliver’s stellar work as the mayor has turned Star City into a crime-free haven. However, Oliver soon begins to uncover a plot to destroy the city and everything he has worked for.Powerless in the face of this terrifying new adversary, Oliver realises that he can only defeat it by becoming something else. To save his city one last time, he is forced to fulfil his destiny, and become the Green Arrow once again.
Relationships: Barry Allen & Kara Danvers & Oliver Queen, Barry Allen & Oliver Queen, John Diggle & Oliver Queen, Kara Danvers/Oliver Queen, Mia Dearden & Oliver Queen, Oliver Queen/Kara Zor-El, Roy Harper & Oliver Queen, Roy Harper/Thea Queen
Series: Destined for Redemption [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2117607
Comments: 56
Kudos: 90





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, let me give a huge shoutout to my beta, Kara Smoak here on ao3. She has helped me a lot with formulating this story, and making it as good as it can be.
> 
> Now, I have to admit that one of the inspirations for this story was The Dark Knight Rises. As the summary says, it'll take place in 2024, in an AU where Team Arrow did not survive the explosions on Lian Yu and Oliver retired thereafter. However, a new threat will emerge and he will become the Green Arrow again. Given that a lot has changed by 2024, you will see a few characters in the story which I've adapted from the Green Arrow comics. One of them will be Mia Dearden, who will be a bit similar to Mia Queen from Arrow.
> 
> That's all I have to say for now, so here is just the prologue to set the scene for the rest of the story. We'll time-jump to 2024 immediately after this. Enjoy!

**_[MAY 17 2017]_ **

_The fumes of the burning trees scraped the sides of Oliver’s lungs and watered his eyes as he desperately sprinted through the flaring forests of Lian Yu. He couldn’t rid his mind of pessimistic thoughts, as he could only hope that his team had managed to make it to the ARGUS boat before the explosions went off, but he’d already found Samantha. If she didn’t make it, then it was probable that neither did they. The adrenaline in his body surged to new heights as he wandered through the abyss of Purgatory. Right now, it looked more like hell. Not a single inch of this island was going to go unsearched, but for now, the sensible thing to do would be to head to the plane which Chase used to get to the island. That was the team’s last known location._

_Amidst the smoulder of the forest, Oliver’s heightened senses picked up the sound of a groan near him. He stopped in his footsteps and listened intensely, aiming to pick up the direction of the noise._

_“Help… please.”_

_The fragile voice pleaded agonisingly, making it clear that that the person that it belonged to was in pain. Oliver recognised the voice immediately and sprinted off to his left. Hard to see with the smoke polluting the air, Oliver did not spot Thea initially, but as he neared her, her figure became clearer as she lay on the ground._

_“Thea!” screamed Oliver, as he rushed towards her side. She barely moved as Oliver crouched next to her, turning her face towards him. Oliver grimaced as he saw the blood running down her face under her right eye, a massive laceration no doubt caused by a piece of shrapnel._

_“Ollie…” she weakly replied. Oliver quickly scanned the rest of her body for any injuries. Apart from superficial cuts, she appeared to generally be fine._

_“Thea, are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked, concernedly._

_“I… I can’t feel my legs.” This revelation caused Oliver to wince, for he knew exactly what this meant for her. Another voice called out, and Oliver’s protective instincts caused him to shoot back up to his feet and nock an arrow in the direction of the vocalisation. The middle-aged man immediately shot his hands up to show that he wasn’t a threat, and Oliver relaxed the bowstring as Quentin’s features became clearer._

_“Where are the others?” asked Oliver immediately._

_“Chase’s plane. That way,” replied Quentin, pointing towards what just seemed like a pathway of burning trees which Oliver had passed before on the flaming island. Oliver knelt back down to his sister, placing a hand on her good cheek._

_“Thea, I am going to be right back, okay. I’m coming back,” he said caringly, before rising to his feet and breaking off in a sprint towards the plane, “Stay with her!” he said to Quentin, as he ran past him. It took him no longer than a minute to reach the fuselage of the heavily damaged aircraft. He had been running past the scattered debris of the plane long before he reached it._

_A silhouette shot up from a large hole on the side of the fuselage, and Oliver sprinted over. From the burliness of the figure, Oliver could tell that it was either Diggle or Slade, and it turned out to be the former when Oliver approached him. Only upon approaching him did the extent of Diggle’s injuries become visible. His left arm hung limp by his side and was entirely draped in blood, courtesy of a large gash on his upper bicep. The tourniquet tied above the wound appeared to have done little to stop the outpouring of blood._

_Oliver blurted out questions to Diggle, asking for the whereabouts of the other members of the team and if they were okay. A silent, troubling response followed and Oliver couldn’t decipher whether the pale look on Diggle’s face was because of the blood loss or because of the answers to his questions. When it appeared as if Diggle could not bring himself to speak, Oliver burst past him into the plane._

_As soon as Oliver entered the ruins of the fuselage, he lost a breath and his heart skipped a beat as he was confronted by the hellish sight in front of him, the fire of the forest providing just enough illumination for him to identify his allies, or rather… what was left of them._

_Spatters of blood engulfed the area, accompanied by a couple of dismembered limbs. Just a few feet in front of him, lay the body of Felicity Smoak. He found himself unable to take any more steps, with the remaining strength in his lactic-acid loaded legs being sapped away. He collapsed to the floor, bringing his hands up to his face as he gripped his hair with despair. He crawled to her body, desperately hoping that she was still alive… but she wasn’t. It took a lot for Oliver Queen to sob. Even when he did in the past, his body seemed to be unable to shed tears, but as he met the gaze of the lifeless eyes amidst the crimson red face of Felicity Smoak, he could not prevent the waterfall of tears from drenching his face. He cradled her body in his arms as the watery discharges burnt into his cheeks while the epiphany began to sink in…_

_Adrian Chase had won._


	2. Chapter 2

**_[7 YEARS LATER]_ **

**_[MAY 16 2024]_ **

Often during his 8-year tenure as mayor, Oliver Queen would find himself standing in the same spot he was in right now, doing the same thing as he was right now. It had become a habit for him. When his back ached and his legs were numb from sitting in his chair the whole day, he’d stand up and walk over to the window of his mayoral office, and gaze upon the city he called home… Star City.

However, the action now seemed different and odd to him. Normally, when he stood there, he scanned the city and worried about the current threats out there, wondered about the newer threats to come and always thought about what more he could do to save the city. Over the past twelve years, such was his obligation. Whether as the Green Arrow or the mayor, his goal was always to save his city. And now he had. Or if he hadn’t, it simply wasn’t his responsibility anymore.

“Please don’t tell me you’re missing this place already.”

The low, gruff voice spoke behind him, and Oliver cracked a smile before turning to face the man who had become one of the most important people in his life. Over the years, the evolution of their relationship stretching from dislike, to hatred, to respect and now, to kinship. Quentin Lance had become like a father to Oliver Queen.

“Come on, it’s been what? Not even two weeks since you’ve been out of here and you’re already back?” said Quentin, his thick, greying beard giving him the appearance of a wise grandfather. Oliver’s slightly longer hair and stout goatee were indicative of his aged appearance too, even if he remained in excellent physical condition for a man of his age.

“No, no, I just came by to see how you’re doing,” replied Oliver.

“Oh, it’s going alright,” quickly replied Quentin, dismissing any suspicions that he was struggling to adjust to his new role as mayor. “I mean, it’s not much different from Deputy, so far. I’ve just moved from the office down the hall to here. What’s the big fuss?” he joked.

Following the incident on the island, Quentin continued to serve beside Oliver as his deputy mayor, contributing greatly to Oliver’s efforts to save the city. When Oliver’s second term was coming to its end, Quentin took to running for the main office himself. He had, as expected, won by a landslide, with 72% of Star City’s population voting for him.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll start to hit you after a while,” replied Oliver.

“Yeah, I suppose. It does feel a bit weird without you here,” acknowledged Quentin, “That’ll take some getting used to.”

“I can still pop by regularly and give you company,” joked Oliver.

“Oh no, please. This place has taken enough out of you,” replied Quentin.

“How’s the deputy doing?” asked Oliver, referring to the deputy mayor, Jack Major. A man not much younger than Oliver, he joined their administration just a couple of years ago and quickly proved to be a great ally. Quentin saw him fit to serve as his deputy mayor almost immediately when he decided to run himself.

“Oh, Major? He’s good. Keeps me on my toes. What about you, huh? Still haven’t taken up an official position at Queen Industries yet?”

“I would have by now, but Thea forced me to take some time off. She said I should just enjoy life before I get back to work.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

“Well, I guess I’ve gotten a taste of what is supposedly a ‘normal’ life. Netflix, take-outs, more Netflix… Yeah, a lot of Netflix.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“I’m sure you are. Anyways, I’ll see you around, Quentin,” said Oliver, as he walked over and shook his hand before making his way to the door. Quentin examined the body language of the man who had become a son to him, immediately recognising the downtrodden posture and blank face.

“Hey, you alright?” asked Quentin.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” replied Oliver dismissively.

“Just. You look a bit down,” replied Quentin, “Cheer up will ya? It’s your birthday,” said Quentin, smiling broadly.

Oliver nodded, acknowledging Quentin’s words with a smile of his own before exiting the office.

* * *

Strolling the streets of Star City, Oliver couldn’t stop himself from feeling a little proud over what he had accomplished. The jovial greetings from several citizens, some of whom still referred to him as Mr Mayor, contributed to his realisation of what he had done. As the mayor, he managed to turn Star City’s fortunes around. Crime rates were as low as ever and corruption was almost non-existent. Of course, he had help.

Quentin and the other members of his administration contributed greatly, as Queen Industries with funding and resources. Following Felicity Smoak’s death, the Smoak Tech board had to scramble to find a new CEO. Given the misfortunes of the company’s previous CEOs, few candidates were willing to step up and take the reins of the supposed “poisoned chalice”. However, one man stepped up… Walter Steele. He took the reins of Smoak Tech, and with the blessing of Oliver and Thea, renamed the company to Queen Industries and provided Oliver and Thea with large shares of the company. Oliver still had his duties as mayor, but Thea eventually joined the company full-time, now running the conglomerate side-by-side with Walter.

The support of Queen Industries was huge in helping the effort to save the city. The SCPD were far better trained than before, and were equipped with several state of the art appliances which helped them initially level the playing field against the criminals of the city. The Rene Ramirez Foundation was set up as a mental health and social help program for impoverished children in The Glades, providing education and ensuring that they do not fall into a life of crime. It was vital in preventing the creation of another generation of violent criminals and thus, along with the victory against organised crime, successfully decreased violence in The Glades.

All of this had been accomplished without the presence of vigilantes. This made Oliver wonder what actually was the point of that bygone crusade. Had he wasted years of his life running around in a green hood with a bow and arrows? Of course not. In the first years of his return, The Hood, and later, the Green Arrow, were definitely needed. His crusade had made the city safer, but was it ever going to be a permanent solution? He wasn’t like Barry Allen or Kara Danvers, whose superpowers provided them with luxuries he could not afford. One day, he knew his time as a vigilante would have to come to an end, he just never knew what was going to break first – His mind, or his body.

It ended up being the former…

His chain of thought was broken with the sound of his phone ringing, and he smiled immediately upon seeing the caller ID.

_“Happy Birthday, Ollie!”_

The voice blared through the speaker of the phone as he answered.

“Thanks, Speedy.”

_“Wow, I can’t believe my big brother is turning 40. I can’t wait to give you the walking cane and new set of dentures that I bought you.”_

“Very funny. You’re no spring chicken yourself. You know they say life’s over when you hit 30, right?”

_“Hey, since I hit 30, I’ve never felt better.”_

“Yeah, sure. I hope you got me a good present. That new book on anti-gravity would be nice. I’ve heard it’s impossible to put down.”

_“Ugh, there you go again with your corny dad jokes.”_

“Want to hear another one?”

_“No! Just remember, 18:30, at my place tonight.”_

“Who’d you invite?”

_“Just the usual. Close friends and family.”_

“Speedy, I can tell when you’re hiding something.”

_“Come now Ollie, what could I possibly be hiding? 40 isn’t that big of a deal, right?”_

“I suppose. See you tonight.”

_“Love you.”_

“I love you too.”

* * *

Thea Queen clicked off the call with her elder brother, placing her phone back on the bedside table before bringing her hands up and running them over her face, her fingers tracing the contours of the scar on her right cheek. The curtains of her bedroom remained closed, with the bright early morning sun partly shining through and basking her room in a dull golden hue. She glanced at the vacant space on the large bed next to her right as the man who had been there before walked back into the room, holding a cup in his hand.

Roy Harper, the love of her life, and her husband. She shifted herself with her arms to sit upright against the headboard of the bed, returning the warm smile Roy gave her with her own as he handed her the cup of coffee. She took a sip of the warm brew before thanking him for making it for her.

“Feeling better?” he asked concernedly.

“Still a little nauseous,” replied Thea.

“You should take another day off.”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“Come on, Walter won’t mind and it’s Oliver’s birthday.”

“Roy, as much I’d like to, I do have some work to do.”

“You don’t have to–“

“Roy… I’ll be fine,” she said reassuringly. She couldn’t deny that she found it cute how overprotective he had become over her as of late, as he sat with her for the couple of minutes it took her to down the contents of the cup, “Ok, time to get ready.”

She placed the cup on her bedside before Roy gently grabbed her legs and shifted her towards him, helping her sit on the edge of the bed. He rose and approached the closets which held much of her wardrobe, bringing to her what she wanted to wear today. Thea had no problem changing her upper body, but Roy helped her slide her pyjama pants off and place her office longs on. Now dressed, he lifted her to her feet and gently placed her in the wheelchair beside the bed.

On the island, a vertebra in the lumbar section of her spine was damaged, paralysing her from the waist down. Felicity’s bio-implant was destroyed in the explosions, and nobody yet had managed to replicate the technology with the same success as Curtis Holt, whose research was destroyed as a parting gift from Adrian Chase.

For several years following the incident, Queen Industries and Star Labs worked hard to try to redevelop the implant, but their success was limited. At this stage, Thea had come to accept her current state. She would of course take back her ability to walk in a heartbeat, but she was no longer obsessed with it. This was her life now. Roy had returned to Star City and helped her come to terms with her fate, staying with her and caring for her. He could not bring himself to leave her once again, and they still loved each other, so he stayed. In 2020, they finally married, and they now lived together in her loft, with Roy obviously under a new identity. He laid low for the first few years back, but now, with it being nearly 10 years since he faked his death, he could walk the streets freely without having to worry about someone recognising him. Without Roy, she didn’t think she would have been able to feel alive again after what happened.

And that’s exactly what worried her about her brother. After what happened, he did eventually find someone whom he shared a deep love with, but they were no longer together now. And now he was no longer the mayor either, and William had left for college. The effects of these changes were reflected in his odd behaviour over the past couple of weeks. To her, it appeared as if he didn’t know what to do with himself anymore, even with a new position waiting for him at Queen Industries.

And for that reason, she was going to make sure his 40th birthday party was amazing.

* * *

John Diggle wiped the sweat forming on his head with his right arm while he placed the 4 kilogram dumbbell in his left hand back on the weight rack in his home gym. The stark contrast of the tiny 4 kilogram dumbbell amidst the 16, 24 and 32 kilogram ones Diggle normally used was comical. He exited the gym room, having completed his morning workout which had become routine for him. He groaned slightly as he thrust the sling over his left shoulder and placed his atrophied arm in it before drinking his protein shake. He broke out a wide smile as he approached the kitchen in his cosy suburban home, having seen his two children eating breakfast together at the dinner table. His _two_ children of course, but only one was his blood relation. JJ, who was enjoying his bowl of cereal, and Zoe Ramirez, instead preferring two slices of buttered toast.

After Rene’s death on the island, Zoe Ramirez found herself an orphan with no other family to go to. For Diggle and Lyla, it was a no-brainer to adopt Zoe following the tragic death of her father, and Zoe didn’t have any objections either. She was already well-acquainted with Diggle, and it didn’t take her long to form a strong relationship with Lyla. He greeted them each with a hug and kiss before pouring a cup of coffee for himself and joining them on the table. He was going to drop JJ off at school while Zoe was going to Thea’s loft to help William and Roy set up for Oliver’s birthday party tonight. Zoe was about to graduate from high school, a year later than William, who had shot ahead due to his academic prowess.

Zoe and William were similar in many ways. Both had lost parents that fateful night, and through that shared hurt, they formed a strong friendship. Diggle wondered for a while if that close friendship with William was more than that, and was always rather curious as to why Zoe would so vehemently shut down any prospects of a relationship between her and William. It only started to make sense to Diggle earlier this year when William had come out to Oliver following his 18th birthday party. The fact that William felt comfortable enough to reveal that to Oliver showed true testament to the kind of father that he was.

The pins and needles in Diggle’s atrophied left arm started to flare up again, as he adjusted its position in the sling to allow for better blood circulation. Everyone had lost something that night. Quentin lost any chance of redeeming Laurel, Thea lost her ability to walk, and Diggle, his left arm. The large wound on his left shoulder had caused severe blood loss, enough to have made Diggle lucky to have survived from it. Hell, they were all lucky to have survived. The blood loss had other unexpected consequences though. With any and all blood flowing to his left arm being spurt out of the wound, there was severe major oxygen deprivation to the nerves in his left arm. The result? Permanent nerve damage which rendered his left arm practically useless. Over time, he regained strength and slight movement in his left arm, but it would never be as strong as it once was.

Everyone had left parts of themselves on that island. For Diggle and Thea, it was physical parts. For William and Quentin, they had left loved ones behind. These were all extremely painful losses, but Diggle knew that what Oliver had left on that island was far worse. He had left his soul there. Over the past 7 years, with the help of his remaining loved ones, he had managed to regain most of it. But not all of it. Such was impossible. A part of Oliver perished on that island amidst the explosions too. Oliver’s outlets for dealing with what happened that day were through raising William and being the mayor.

Diggle knew this day would come. When William was grown up and Oliver’s mayoral terms would come to an end, and he never knew what this would mean for Oliver. He’d hoped that after 7 years, Oliver had finally rid himself of his guilt, or at the very least, had managed to shove it down far enough so that it didn’t consume him anymore. However, Diggle’s gut feeling told him otherwise. He knew Oliver too well for that. He had a feeling that this sudden change of status quo would have an adverse effect on him. So far, all seemed to be well, but he knew anything could change in a split-second.

Diggle brushed aside these thoughts and rather turned his attention to the brighter side of things regarding Oliver. It was his 40th birthday today. 2024 was a big year for the Queens. William turned 18, Thea turned 30, and now it was Oliver’s turn to have a big bash. One thing was for sure… it was going to be a good one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Oliver was born in 1985 in canon, but it's just a year earlier for my story. Not too significant of a change :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver celebrates his 40th birthday with his friends and family.

**_(18:29)_ **

Oliver anxiously approached the door to Thea’s loft, rubbing the fingers of his right hand against each other. An old habit which he retained from his years of pulling on bowstrings, he could never shake it off. It persisted whenever he was slightly nervous, agitated or anxious. _What do you have to be nervous about_ , he asked himself. It’s his _own_ birthday, and the party was for _himself_. He knew turning 40 was a big deal to his sister, as much as he played down the importance of it to himself. Every member of the Queen family had had a significant birthday number this year. William turned 18 and Thea turned 30. They had great parties organised for them but they were still not too big or extravagant. Perhaps they would do the same for him. A big party, but nothing over the top.

He found himself in front of the door, with the dim glisten on the smoked door indicating to him that the lights were on inside. That probably meant that they weren’t doing some big surprise jump-scare, and that it was just going to be a regular gathering. He was wrong…

He opened the door and was startled by the unison cry of “SURPRISE!” as several people seemingly appeared out of thin air in front of him. The surprise wasn’t the party itself, but rather the platoon of guests which he was not expecting to be there. He quickly scanned the multiple faces all scattered around the loft which stared back at him. He identified the expected. Diggle, Lyla, Zoe, Thea, Roy, Quentin, Walter and William. The several other faces were the ones who surprised him.

Team Flash – Barry, Iris, Cisco and Caitlyn. Team Legends – Sara, Mick, Ray and Nate, and lastly, Team Supergirl – Kara, Alex, Nia, Brainy and J’onn J’onzz. He found himself dumbstruck at the surprise appearances of his friends, and eventually cracked a heart-warming smile as they all came up to greet him. He had quite a bit of greeting to do, making his way through the 20 of them fairly quickly, until he came to the very last person he had to greet. He didn’t know what to expect from their interaction. Slightly awkward was a given, but judging by the fact that she was here meant that he probably had nothing major to worry about.

“Hi,” he said warmly, but nervously as she came within arms distance of him. Her bangs floated on her forehead while the rest of her blonde hair was tied up in a bun. She looked beautiful in the short red dress and high heels, and the breath-taking smile which she always had hadn’t changed a bit. Of course it hadn’t. The woman literally didn’t age.

“Hey,” replied Kara Danvers, equally nervous. They stood in front of each other for another couple of seconds, each unsure of the next move to make. They eventually broke out in a nervous chuckle before they hugged. “Happy Birthday,” she said as they separated.

“Thank you. You look great. Beautiful,” complimented Oliver.

“You look good too,” she replied.

“Thanks,” replied Oliver, followed by a few more seconds of awkward silence. He gestured for them to move towards the center of the loft where everybody else was congregating, and they both happily obliged to join the others. Oliver immediately noticed the massive birthday cake in the center of the congregation, with the numbers 4 and 0 shaped out by the icing on the chocolate cake. He was handed a glass of champagne by Roy before he joined Thea’s side as she began her customary sibling speech.

“First of all, I’d just like to once again thank all of you for coming. I know all of us have very busy schedules, to say the least, but the fact that we’ve all made an effort to be here speaks volumes to just how special of an occasion this is. My wonderful big brother is turning 40 today, and while Oliver may be my brother, he is also family to every single person in this room. For many of us in this room, Oliver is our mentor, and I think it’s safe to say also the man who is responsible for kick-starting many of our greatest journeys in life. And if not that, he has still affected our lives profoundly in ways that we could have never imagined. And for that, I’d like to offer a toast… to Oliver.”

In unison, the guests all raised their glasses before Oliver decided to share a few words of his own.

“Uhh, wow, I guess Thea covered most of it. I’ll start by saying thank you to all of you for being here, and perhaps just reiterate one of Thea’s points about family. My mother once told me that real family does not come from blood. It comes from who is willing to be there for you when you need it the most, and I cannot think of a better group of people to which that statement rings more true. Each and every single one of you in this room is my family, and let us not ever forget that. And with that said, let’s not waste any more time because I have been dying to grab a slice of this cake.”

“Wait!” shouted Thea just before Oliver was about to grab the knife. “We have to sing Happy Birthday.”

“No. No!” Oliver’s stern objections did nothing to stop them, as they all broke out in an animated, vehement rendition of the Happy Birthday song. Oliver wanted to be mad, but he simply couldn’t, as he laughed at the spirit and vigour with which they sung.

* * *

“How are things on Earth-38?” asked Oliver to J’onn J’onzz.

“Things are great. Kara is doing an excellent job, as always,” replied J’onn.

“I’m sure. Where’s Clark? Could he not make it?” asked Oliver.

“He and Lois just returned from Argo City. They were on vacation. And also, I don’t think it would be a good idea for both Superman and Supergirl to be absent from the planet at the same time. You never know what might happen.”

“True.” As the mingling of the evening continued, Oliver took a moment to join Thea, who was conversing with Walter.

“Oliver. I was just telling Thea how lovely all of this is,” said Walter, as he saw him approaching.

“I agree,” concurred Oliver before he turned to Thea, “Thank you, Speedy.”

“You’re welcome, Ollie.”

“You know Oliver, I was there twelve years ago when you returned from Lian Yu, and despite everything that you’ve gone through, you’ve still grown into a good man. One of the best that I’ve ever known,” said Walter, “I think it’s safe to say that Robert and Moira would be very proud of who you’ve become. You too, Thea.”

As Walter finished his words, William appeared, brandishing two champagne glasses, immediately disgruntling his father.

“Woah, what do you think you’re doing? You’re still underage!” said Oliver.

“Relax dad,” said William coolly, handing one glass to Walter, “These aren’t for me. Come on, you really think I’m dumb enough to drink in front of you?”

“So you’re implying that you’re smart enough to drink behind my back?” asked Oliver.

“Precisely,” joked William, “Here, Aunt Thea.”

Thea waved off the glass immediately. “No, not for me, thanks.”

“What do you mean? You haven’t had one all night.”

“William, not right now,” said Thea adamantly, but the puzzled look on William’s face didn’t fade. “I _can’t_.”

Oliver almost staggered back at the words from Thea. It took William a couple of more seconds to piece the puzzle together, and when he did, he couldn’t contain his excitement.

“Oh my gosh, you’re pregnant!” William screamed out the words, loud enough for it to echo multiple times in the loft and cause the heads of every guest to turn towards him. William’s excitement quickly turned into embarrassment as he realised what he’d done. The silence lingered for a few seconds before Thea spoke up again.

“Well, I guess the cat is out of the bag now. Yes, everybody, I’m pregnant. Roy and I are expecting.”

Oliver immediately dropped onto a knee and embraced his sister, and his elation of the news was shared by the guests, who each then came forward to congratulate Thea on the news.

* * *

An hour into the evening, Oliver took a break to enjoy a few moments by himself on the second floor of The Loft. He gazed down at the ongoing party and realised that the people down there were more than just his friends and family. In many ways, they were his very legacy. Many of the people down there were heroes that he had helped shape and inspire. He looked down at the likes of The Flash, the White Canary and the ATOM. He had mentored the literal keepers of world peace and fabric of time, but for some reason, he felt empty. He couldn’t place his finger on why. He had done everything he set out to do. He saved his city, he raised William and now, he was truly free of any burden. Yet it didn’t feel that way. His thoughts were interrupted as he heard someone walk up the stairs towards the right of him.

“Sorry, do you mind? If I come up?” asked Kara.

“No, not at all,” replied Oliver, telling a white lie.

“Big news, huh?” said Kara, referring to Thea’s pregnancy reveal.

“Yeah, I’m finally going to be an uncle,” replied Oliver.

“What would you prefer, a nephew or a niece?” asked Kara.

“I don’t know. Maybe a niece, since I don’t have a daughter.”

“I suppose. Hey, umm, how’s everything going? You know, just… generally?” asked Kara, almost kicking herself at the awkwardness with which she asked him.

“I’m alright. Just dealing with a lot of change, you know. No longer the mayor, William’s at Caltech but I’m alright. You?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual. Being Supergirl and all. I won another Pulitzer, by the way.”

“Oh, congrats.”

“Thanks…” The awkward silence lingered once again before Kara spoke up again, “Hey, is there anything else going on? Is there… someone…”

“Uhh… No, no. You?” asked Oliver. He received the same answer from Kara, albeit without words, receiving a simple shake of the head from her. The question wasn’t exactly shocking to Oliver, he was more curious at her reasons for asking. When she continued to linger and Oliver began to study her body language more, he realised that something was bothering her.

“Kara, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“With me? Oh, no, nothing. I’m A-Okay,” she replied, nervously smiling.

“Something’s bothering you. It’s okay, you can tell me.”

“It’s just… when Thea invited us, she invited Nia too, and then…” Her words stopped for a second, and Oliver could see that she was struggling to say it, “Nia had a dream about you. She had a dream that you died. You were hurt, and you were sinking in the ocean… Drowning.”

Oliver didn’t know how to react to the bombshell that had just been dropped on him. “Her dreams can be wrong sometimes, can’t they? And they’re interpretive.”

“I know, but I just… I just thought I should tell you. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” she replied tenderly.

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that, because now I’m not going to go swimming any time soon,” joked Oliver, breaking her worry and causing her to chuckle with him. “Come on, let’s head back down,” he said, suggesting they re-join the party below them.

* * *

“Sorry for stealing your thunder Ollie,” said Thea apologetically, as she sat on her bed next to him.

“Come on, Speedy, you didn’t steal any thunder. I’m actually mad at William for putting you on the spot like that,” replied Oliver.

“Don’t be too hard on him,” replied Thea quickly.

“I won’t,” replied Oliver with a sly smile, “I couldn’t be happier for you and Roy. You’re both going to be amazing parents.”

“Roy Harper as a father? Never thought I’d see the day,” joked Thea.

“Me neither,” concurred Oliver, sharing a laugh with his sister, “You deserve happiness, Thea. I’m glad you’re getting it.”

“Yeah, well… you deserve it too, Ollie,” said Thea, eyeing him suspiciously. Oliver immediately recognised what Thea was referring to and sighed before replying.

“There’s nothing between Kara and I anymore,” replied Oliver adamantly.

“Oliver, I saw you two speaking. You were both practically fawning over each other.”

“Thea, you know why I can’t be with her.”

“I know, I know, but maybe things have changed Ollie. Maybe now is your chance to rekindle and reignite the flame.”

“It’s been two years, Thea. She’s probably moved on.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Oliver, eager to change the topic, diverted the focus of the conversation. “So, the news that I’m becoming an uncle and relationship advice are my birthday presents?” he joked.

“Actually, no. I have something else for you,” replied Thea.

“What is it?”

“Keen for a drive?” asked Thea, with a curious eyebrow raise.

* * *

Oliver sat nervously in the backseat of the car, constantly staring out of the window to try and decipher where Roy and Thea were taking him. The fact that the ride felt so familiar yet so strange was irking him. At the same time, his mind kept flirting with thoughts of the conversation he had with Thea. Not necessarily the conversation, but the topic.

Yes, he and Kara Zor-El were once together. As unlikely a pairing as it would ever seem. A former playboy billionaire turned ruthless vigilante turned mayor and a heroic super-powered alien with an endearing human side. And if that weren’t enough, they both came from different worlds… literally. Diggle once joked with him that Oliver had redefined the term, “long-distance relationship”. Hell, he created a new one. How about “interdimensional relationship”?

He and Kara had first started seeing each other in mid-2019 when they both decided to take a chance on each other after an unexpectedly flirty conversation at Barry’s 30th birthday party. The doubts and hiccups which one would expect from such a relationship had of course sprung up. Not just them being from different Earths or being different people, but also, him being human and her being Kryptonian. Nonetheless, they worked through the issues and they really hit off. For a long time, everything was going well and the ‘different Earth’ and ‘alien-human’ issues almost became non-existent… almost.

Things took a rough turn on Earth-38, and Supergirl was needed far more often than usual. No longer the Green Arrow, Oliver’s issues were rarely as severe as Kara’s, but still, there were times when the interdimensional gap seemed too large for them to cover. It happened on more than one occasion where Oliver or Kara were needed on their respective Earths while they were on the other with each other. The far more pressing issue was their inter-species gap.

One night, Kara brought up the idea of marriage and having children in the future, triggering something in Oliver’s brain which caused him to become extremely unsettled. He didn’t know why it happened at first, but then he realised it was because it had reminded him that he was human. He was mortal. He would age and wither away while Kara would still look 30 the day he’d eventually die. Also, could they even have children? Sure, they could conceive on Argo City, but what about birth defects? Clark and Lois had healthy children, but there was no guarantee that the same would happen for a human male and Kryptonian female.

Thus, Oliver did to Kara what he’d done far too often to the ones he loved. He pushed her away, telling her it was for her own good. He wanted her to have someone who would be there for her forever and give her children. He was adamant with his decision, and reluctantly, they made the decision to split. It hurt both of them bad, but Oliver believed it had to be done. Kara was the only woman he had been with since Felicity died and he still cared for her deeply. As much as Oliver didn’t want to admit it, he still hasn’t moved on, and judging from his interactions with her, she hasn’t either. However, at the same time, nothing had changed about why they decided to end things, and for that reason, he didn’t see them rekindling.

With his mind having drifted off, Oliver snapped back to reality when the car hit a gravel road. “Speedy, where are we going?” he asked.

“Just relax Ollie, we’re almost there,” she replied, unable to hide the excitement in her voice.

“We’ve been driving for a half-hour. We must be at least 20 miles from the city,” he replied, to no response. In the darkness, with only the moonlight providing any visibility, it was hard for Oliver to determine where they were going. Eventually, the car came to a stop at what appeared to be a large property. Once again, the outside lights were off, so it was hard for Oliver to make out the exact details of the wall and the gate. Driving through the gate, the twists and turns of the road became recognisable… he’d been here before.

It took a minute for Oliver to finally truly realise where they were, as he stared in disbelief out the window at the brightly lit large structure ahead of them accompanied by a decorative fountain directly in front of it.

“Thea, is that…” Oliver couldn’t even finish the words.

The Queen Mansion, fully restored. Oliver immediately jumped out the car when it came to a halt, and sprinted into the mansion. He burst through the doors, and laid his eyes upon his childhood home. He marvelled upon the new look of the place. The design remained faithful to the original specs, but Thea had of course taken the liberty of adding a few modern touches to the interior decoration.

“It’s not yet 100% done, but it will be in about another month or two.” Oliver was so caught up he didn’t even hear Roy and Thea come up next to him. Oliver immediately, for the second time today, dropped to a knee and gave his sister a tight hug.

“Thank you for doing this,” he said endearingly before rising back up to his feet, “So, what’s the plan? Are you two going to move in here now, or…”

“Well, we never really thought of that. I actually had another idea in mind…” Oliver eyed her with curiosity, eagerly awaiting her answer, “We turn it into an orphanage.”

“The Robert and Moira Queen Home for Children,” added Roy.

“How does that sound?” asked Thea.

“It sounds wonderful,” replied Oliver, as he took another look at the home before heading back to the car with Roy and Thea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, although this is going to be an Arrow-focused story, this isn't the last that we're going to see of some of the other heroes. They're definitely going to play a part in the rest of the story.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Quentin meet with a young detective, and Ricardo Diaz's prison life takes an interesting turn of events.

**(10:27)**

Oliver almost sprung right off the couch in his apartment as he read the news headline on the large television screen in front of him. ‘ _Mass Shooting at Nelson Plaza. 11 Dead.’_ A few years ago, this would not have been so shocking. Not just the news of the shooting itself, but the fact that it just so happened to have occured in May, right around the time of Oliver Queen’s birthday. With the ‘death’ of the Green Arrow and the decline of crime, May had finally started to feel like an ordinary month in Star City, but this mass shooting might have just set that sentiment back.

This was the first mass shooting in Star City in 2 years. Reduced gang activity, as well as stricter gun control laws, curtailed instances of mass murder. Oliver’s mind already began to work as he listened to the details of the investigation. The shooter hadn’t been caught. He had secured a vantage point from a nearby rooftop and disappeared as soon as his mags were empty. The police are still searching for him. Unusual behaviour, one that doesn’t fit in with the usual profile of a mass shooter. Although it doesn’t take a genius to point out that a vantage point would be advantageous to a shooter, something in Oliver’s gut told him that the perpetrator wasn’t just your average, troubled psychopath. His behaviour spoke more to someone with military training. Then again, it was just a gut feeling but Oliver knew that his gut was just as trustworthy as any detective or investigator.

“Ready to go?”

Oliver switched off the TV immediately as he heard William speak behind him. Following the party, William returned to sleep in his old room and had just finished packing his small travel bag.

“Yep.”

“You know you’re welcome to stay a little longer if you like,” suggested Oliver, as he rose from the couch and grabbed his car keys from the kitchen counter.

“I know, but I also know you’re going to kick my ass if I fall behind on work,” replied William, humourously.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” replied Oliver, complimenting his work ethic.

“Yeah… You definitely can’t kick my ass,” quipped William, drawing a fake scowl from his father.

“I meant you falling behind on work, smartass.”

“That too! Come on, let’s go,” said William, sharing a laugh with his father as they made their way to the door.

Their conversation continued in the car ride on the way to the airport.

“So, when do you start at Queen Industries?” asked William curiously.

“How did you know that I’m going to take a job there?” asked Oliver, countering William with a question of his own.

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious. There’s not much else for you to do. Besides fighting. Mixed Martial Arts. Maybe you could join the UFC and become world champ,” joked William, drawing a chuckle from Oliver.

“Please, no. I’m too old to be in the UFC.”

“I mean, there’s a lot of guys who fought for the belt when they were 40,” replied William, who quickly changed his tune when he recognised a look of consideration on Oliver’s face, “Hey, you know I’m just joking, right?”

“Of course. I am too,” replied Oliver with a smile. When Oliver first took William in, he had trouble connecting with and forming a bond with his son. One of the ways Oliver managed to get through to him was surprisingly through mixed martial arts. He and William became avid MMA fans, watching almost every UFC fight card that was on, as well as Bellator and ONE Championship occasionally. When the UFC brought an event to Star City in 2021, Oliver secured front-row tickets for him and William as soon as possible, and even managed to get William backstage for photos with some of the fighters.

The goodbye at the airport terminal wasn’t tearful, but it was still difficult for Oliver. His son had become such a big part of his life. He’d often spend an exorbitant amount of time trying to think of ways to help William and be there for him, but it was only really when William left for Caltech last year that Oliver had realised how much his son was actually the one helping him. His apartment felt empty without him and Raisa there. He bid his son farewell with a tight embrace, before hopping back into the car and speeding off to his next destination. Starling General, to pay a visit to the survivors of the shooting.

* * *

Despite the fact that an appointment had been scheduled, when the door to his office opened at 11:30, Quentin Lance was surprised. Not surprised at the visit, but at the man who had come to see him.

“Oliver? What are you doing here?” asked Quentin.

“I just came from Starling General,” replied Oliver.

“Visiting the survivors?”

“Yeah. Just thought I’d pop by. Any leads on the shooter?” asked Oliver.

“No, but I’m actually supposed to be meeting a detective right now. You can sit in if you want.” As Quentin finished his words, the door opened and in stepped Detective Mack Morgan of the SCPD.

“Detective. We were just speaking about you,” said Quentin, as he stood up and shook the man’s hand. Mack Morgan was fairly young, being aged only 31, but his age was far from an indicator of his skills. Quentin had taken note of him a year back when he had managed to crack a cold homicide case, one which Quentin had been involved in back when he was a detective. He possessed the looks of a matured teenage heart-throb, with brown spiky hair, blue eyes and chiselled jawline, but he was far from just a pretty face.

“Mr Mayor,” replied the young man, before he turned his full attention to Oliver.

“Detective, I’m sure you know Oliver Queen. Oliver, this is Detective Mack Morgan,” said Quentin, introducing the two as they shook hands, “Oliver would like to hear what you have to say on the shooting. That’s not a problem at all, is it?”

“No, sir. It’s good to finally meet you, Mr Queen.”

“Likewise, Detective. I’ve heard good things about you,” replied Oliver.

“Thank you. I guess now I can finally say thank you in person. A couple of years ago, my mom had a coronary. I wouldn’t have had the money to pay for the operation if you hadn’t set up the SMRF.” The Starling Medical Relief Fund was a free-of-charge healthcare that Oliver set up to provide monetary help to hospitalised patients who were unable to afford the costs of their treatments, running completely off donations from the public and Queen Industries.

“Glad to hear it,” replied Oliver sincerely, “So, what do we have?” asked Oliver, as the three men took their seats.

“Our perp took shots from the rooftop of the Burgundy Hotel,” started Morgan, “Not a single shell casing in the vicinity. The receptionist said that none of the guests appeared suspicious to him. We’ve still got to check the CCTV footage to see if we can identify him or her, but I doubt anything will come up there.”

“Why not?” asked Quentin.

“We don’t have a reliable description and we believe our perp didn’t exit from reception. One eyewitness, a hobo, says he saw a man use a grappling hook to abseil down the side of the hotel into an alleyway, where a getaway car was waiting for him. Captain doesn’t believe him.”

“Do you?” asked Oliver. Morgan ran his hand through his hair while he contemplated what answer to give.

“Under normal circumstances, I’d say no. The guy appeared to be a druggie, but when you take into consideration the other factors…”

“Like?”

“Perp used a silencer. 11 dead, 6 wounded and we think he only fired around 18 shots. So, he was…”

“He was picking his shots,” said Quentin, finishing the sentence.

“Right. This wasn’t your crazed, sociopathic gunman, sir. This was a professional. Maybe a hitman.” Morgan eyed Quentin and Oliver as they processed the information, nervously fiddling with his badge in his pocket.

“Any idea as to why someone would hire a hitman to gun down a bunch of civilians?” asked Quentin. Morgan moved to speak, but didn’t have the chance as Oliver spoke up before him.

“If it was a professional, then he might have had a single target. Took out him or her out, and then the civilians just to cover up his tracks and lead the investigators astray.” His answer took Morgan by surprise.

“A very educated guess. You a detective yourself, Mr Queen?” joked Morgan.

Oliver, thinking quickly on his feet, replied with a half-true excuse. “I’ve religiously binge-watched all of the ‘Mission: Impossible’ movies on multiple occasions. You pick up a thing, or two.”

“Fair enough,” replied Morgan. “I agree with Mr Queen’s hypothesis. We’ve already started looking into the victims. That’s all I have, Mr Mayor.”

“Alright, keep me updated son,” said Quentin. He and Oliver stood and shook the detective’s hand before he left.

* * *

Ricardo Diaz continued throwing hundreds of short punches into the wall of his cell in Slabside Maximum Security Prison. Although the gym for the inmates had a punching bag, they only had one hour of rec time, so proper bag work for a martial artist like Diaz was practically non-existent. His knuckles were conditioned, so there was little pain, and he never threw a full-powered strike into the concrete, lest he want to spend several weeks with a broken hand.

“Will you stop? I’m trying to sleep here, you bellend!”

The British voice called out from the cell next to him. Danny Brickwell…

Diaz continued to throw strikes, ignoring the ensuing British profanity-laden insults which were then thrown his way. He stopped his workout when Brick’s rant ended, and then moved to his bed to attempt to sleep as well.

Five years served in Slabside Penitentiary, and Diaz still had absolutely no desire to reform his ways despite his sentence. For him, a release was not in the books. Life without parole, the judge said. The only way out of here would be to break out, which was practically impossible without outside help. Ricardo Diaz had crossed paths with many dangerous men in his life. Trained killers, assassins, mercenaries, and some of the finest martial artists on planet Earth. So, imagine the irony of his fall coming at the hands of a college dropout and a former playboy. It was Oliver Queen’s policies and leadership that changed the fortunes of Star City. Had it not been for him, Diaz would’ve probably been running the entire city, enhancing his reputation as one of the most powerful crime-lords in America.

Diaz always thought if someone were to stop him, it would be the Green Arrow, but he and his team had mysteriously disappeared following the dispatching of Adrian Chase. Against the Green Arrow, at least he would’ve gone down with a fist fight, something which Oliver Queen wouldn’t last 10 seconds in. Despite that, he still gave Queen props, because he wasn’t just all good looks. Diaz could see the conviction that the man possessed. He did spend five years on an island, and he did survive and appear to come back with at least half of his marbles. He didn’t buy Queen’s story that he was alone for all those years, but whether he was or wasn’t hardly changed the fact that he had managed to survive a crucible that most people wouldn’t have. In that regard, perhaps a loss to Oliver Queen wasn’t so bad after all, but that didn’t change the fact that he was stuck in this prison, along with a multitude of other criminals which Queen helped lock up.

He’d heard the news of Quentin Lance’s election. Good news for the city, but bad news for Diaz. A fresh face in the mayor’s office, but things were going to stay the same. Star City would continue to be a shining light in the world that proved that redemption was possible. A symbol to show that even from the darkest depths of anarchy could humanity arise and triumph. If he ever got out of here, he’d make it his top priority to change that.

Diaz sat straight up as he heard the murmurs of a man outside his cell before the sound of a body slumping to the floor. He stood up, but before he could move to see what was happening, a prison guard appeared in front of his cell door. A guard he’d never seen before. Tall, muscular, and sporting a thick mustache. He looked a bit too young and good-looking to be working in a place like this. The guard opened his cell door, and Diaz cautiously didn’t make a move until he was sure of the man’s motives.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked.

“You, Mr Diaz, are about to become a free man,” replied the guard, as he gestured for Diaz to step out of the cell. Ricardo Diaz did as he was told. He followed the man to the back entrance of Slabside Penitentiary where a van was waiting for them. Inside the van were four other men, each fully-armoured and armed with assault rifles. That, coupled with the fact that they came across no trouble on the way out, confirmed to Diaz that these guys were professional. No more words had been spoken since Diaz had exited his cell. The ride was fairly long. Slabside was 15 miles away from any form of civilization, but judging by the near hour they had spent on the road, they were taking him back to Star City. He hadn’t yet bothered to ask why he had been broken out. He figured wherever they were taking him now would provide all the answers he needed.

Eventually, the surrounding sounds of a city started to become audible for a few minutes. Fellow cars, horn honks and police sirens. Just as quickly as the sounds became audible, they disappeared. At this time of night, it was no surprise that they were in an area with scarce vehicles on the road. When the van came to a sudden halt and Diaz was ordered to get out of the car, the thought that perhaps they were going to execute him flirted with his mind, but when he saw exactly where they were, he discarded the thought altogether. Loxley and Adamson Street, right in the middle of The Glades. The last time Diaz was here, the area was considerably more run down. It had been freshened up, but it was still a low-income majority area. While there were no houses or apartments in this specific area, it still wasn’t exactly the best spot to execute someone. A better option would be right by the docks on a pier, where they could dump his body into the water after the work was done.

The armed men behind Diaz nudged him in the direction of a small run-down building behind him. The abandoned subway station? Now that would be a good place to execute someone. The pseudo-prison guard stepped to the metal doors of the station, knocking twice before a hatch slid open and someone peered from it to verify his identity before opening the door for them. Initially walking through the station, Diaz noted that it remained weathered and rusted, bar the lights that had been set up. They eventually ended up walking on the railway track, and Diaz immediately knew when they had reached their destination.

A large titanium door led to a medium-sized bunker, newly built right in the subway track. The area where the track would have continued had been paved over to the same level as the sides. The exits on the sides which would have led to other stations had been sealed bar one, where another titanium door was sealed by an electronic keypad lock. Armed guards were present at each door. Against the walls were large shelves where hundreds of arms and thousands of ammunition were stored. Tables were set up around the large area. This was as close to a world-class facility as you could build.

Despite several lights and lamps in the area, the place was dimly lit, and in the center of the area stood a lone man, preoccupied with something on the table in front of him. His back was turned to Diaz, and the dim lighting was just enough for Diaz to make out his buzz cut. He was tall as well, and his fairly muscular frame was visible despite him bearing a black coat. Presumably, that was the man behind all of this.

“How kind of you to join us, Mr Diaz,” said the man, without turning around. British accent…

“It’s not like I had a choice,” replied Diaz. “Just so you know, I don’t like British people all that much.”

“Well, then you’d be glad to know that I’m not actually British,” replied the man emphatically.

“Care to tell me what the hell is going on?” asked Diaz.

“Of course,” replied the man, “A revolution is brewing, Mr Diaz. A revolution that will restore this city to its former glory, and I would like you to be a part of it.”

“How so?”

“I have a new drug. Highly addictive. I have already put it into distribution but I want you to helm the operation to get it far and wide.”

“Why me?”

“Firstly, you are the most notorious drug kingpin to ever operate out of this city, and secondly, because you know these streets better than almost anyone else. I will provide you with whatever other resources you may need to carry out this task. Within reasonable demand, of course.”

“Who are you?” asked Diaz, curious to know more about the man in front of him before accepting the mission he was providing.

“You need not know my name as of now, but what you do need to know…” The man finally turned around, and for the first time, Diaz locked eyes with him, “…is that I’m the man who’s going to help you bring this city to its knees.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FLASHBACK - Introducing Mia Dearden.

**_[11 YEARS AGO]_ **

**_[JANUARY 21 2013]_ **

_This was how it always started. First, he’d come home reeking of booze. Then, the bickering with her mother would start, which would most of the time turn into shouting and screaming. Sometimes, a couple of thuds would be heard from the sound of his fists connecting with her mother’s skull, and then, he would be outside her room. Furiously twisting the doorknob and banging the door, screaming for her to let him in. In the past, when the keys to her doorlock were taken away, she wouldn’t be so lucky, and she too would feel the wrath of her father’s fists. She eventually managed to find the keys, and now habitually locked her room door whenever he came home. One time, he’d managed to change the locks, but she’d sourced out the shape of the keyhole and managed to get a key from one of her friends._

_Today, it was bad. Very bad. She’d failed another test at school, something that would have been unthinkable for her years ago, but was now becoming the unfortunate norm. When the hinges of her wooden door frame started to crack, she hastily grabbed a coat and shoes and ran to her window, stepping out onto the fire escape and hastily treading down the stairs. She reached the ground just as she heard her room door break open, and ignored her father’s profanity-laden screams as she ran and ran on the same path she had run before. She couldn’t live like this anymore. Vertigo-addicted mother, abusive father, her home environment had become so toxic that her grades had dropped considerably._

_Eventually, after having sprinted as far as her legs and lungs allowed, she slumped down against a wall to catch her breath and regain her bearings. She was now in the middle of the Glades, all alone, at half one in the morning. She couldn’t go back home, not right now. After re-energising, she treaded vigilantly and cautiously towards her only friend’s house. It was the only other place she could go at this time, a place where she’d bunk until morning and return home when her father was sobered and no longer presented a threat._

_The streets were fairly empty tonight. She only passed by a couple of homeless people and street-walkers on her trek. Usually, there’d be more criminals and gangbangers out at this time, but due to the vigilante, or the other name that she preferred to call him, The Hood, criminals no longer had carte blanche to do as they pleased. She crossed her arms and covered her hands with the sleeves of her coat as the chilly night wind picked up. She was wearing pyjamas underneath, but the double layering wasn’t enough to completely shield her from the cold._

_She was nearing her friend’s house after several minutes of walking, but she was still in a dangerous part of the Glades, and kept her eye on a red-hooded man walking on the other side of the road. When he stopped in his tracks and faced her, she pretended to ignore his gaze and continued walking, but was surprised when she heard his voice call out._

_“Hey!”_

_“What?” she replied anxiously. She relaxed slightly upon seeing him remove his red hood, noting the young, model-like look on his face that matched his boyish voice perfectly._

_“What are you doing out here?” he asked._

_“None of your business!” she replied sternly._

_“A young girl like you shouldn’t be out here at this time. Let me make sure you get home safe.” She was only 13, but she had matured quickly, giving the impression to some that she was older than she looked. Normally, a statement like this would be riddled with sinister or suggestive undertones, but the sincerity in the young man’s voice made her consider for a second whether or not she could trust him. He gave off good energy, but she quickly decided against it._

_“I don’t need your help. Just stay away from me, creep!”_

_“Okay. Your funeral.”_

_She was surprised once again at his easy concession and eyed him as he placed the hood back on his head and continued walking on the pathway. She did the same._

_A couple of blocks later, she jolted around when she heard a car, and picked up her pace when she noticed the car start to slow down beside her. Slowly, the lightly-tinted window of the backseat rolled down._

_“Hey sweetheart! Where are you heading to?” She didn’t reply, continuing to walk as she took note of the other three figures in the car that continued to trail her. She ignored the man’s requests for her to join him in the car, eventually irking him to a point where he stepped out of the car and started to approach her. “Listen, I’m not asking anym-“_

_His words were interrupted by a loud crack, as blood sprayed onto her before the man slumped to the floor. Soon, more gunshots rang out and she dropped to the floor, covering her ears as the car in front of her was starting to be riddled with bullets from presumably a rival gang. She heard gunfire being returned as more bullets zipped past her head. The seconds felt like minutes as she covered up in a fetal position, hoping that a stray bullet wouldn’t end up in her skull._

_And then, an even louder, more distinct bang rang out, ceasing the gunfire. She lifted her head slightly to look at what was happening. She saw a thin, long device of some sorts attach to the powerline on the other side of the road, and it was only once it combusted that she realised that it was an arrow. The powerline tumbled, electrical sparks flying as it came down on the middle of the road. The sound of a motorbike engine roared towards her, and she dumbfoundedly stared at the green-hooded figure who pulled up next to her._

_“Come on!” he screamed, as he held out a hand to her. She reached her hand out to his, and marvelled at the strength of the man, who lifted her effortlessly and placed her behind him, “Hold on!”_

_She obeyed his instruction, wrapping her hands tightly around his waist as the motorbike burst into full throttle. The pops of gunshots started ringing out again, and she screamed as she heard the bullets zip past them. Luckily, none of them appeared to hit her or the man she was holding on to for dear life. Eventually, she felt the bike come to a stop, and she let go of her grip around the man as he stepped off the bike._

_“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked as he inspected her, gently turning her around to make sure she wasn’t wounded and wiping away the blood that had splattered on her. She could make out a couple of his facial features, but the hood over his head protected his identity, as did the voice modulator which he had clearly activated before he said anything. She couldn’t believe that it was really him._

_“You’re him? Yo-You’re the vigilante?” she said. He ignored her question, replying with one of his own._

_“What were you doing out there? It’s not safe for a girl like you to be alone in the Glades at this time.”_

_“I.. I…” She couldn’t muster up the words to say anything else, still in shock over the sequence of events that occurred._

_“Hey, relax. You’re safe now,” replied the vigilante, as he gently placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “Where is your home?” he asked._

_“Uhh… 12 Ferguson Street.” She lied, giving out the address of her friend’s home. She at least had enough presence of mind to do that._

_“I know where it is. I’ll take you there,” he replied, as he stepped back on to the bike, waiting for her to grab his waist again before the bike set into motion. He still drove at a fast pace, but she could tell he was being more careful, mindful of the passenger with him. It took only another minute before the bike came to a stop once again. She stepped off the bike and started to make her way towards the house, but turned to face The Hood one more time, who stayed put._

_“Thank you,” she said._

_“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied gruffly, not facing her._

_“I do. You didn’t have to save me. You usually go after rich guys. One-percenters.”_

_“The reason I do that is so that I can make this city a better place for people like you.”_

_“Then I guess that means I should say thank you for that as well.”_

_“What’s your name?” he asked._

_“Mia.”_

_At the mention of her name, she thought she could perhaps make out a faint smile on his face._

_“Mia,” he repeated endearingly, “Well, Mia, you can thank me by staying off the streets of The Glades at night. Promise me you won’t ever do that again.”_

_“I promise.”_

_“Good. Have a good night’s sleep, Mia.”_

_“You too,” she replied, as the man in the hood sped off._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FLASHBACK - Kashmir...

**_[14 YEARS AGO]_ **

**_[03 AUGUST 2010 – KASHMIR]_ **

_“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” An American man took a couple of deep puffs from his cigarette, choosing to ignore his British companion’s question, “The target will be passing through at any moment now, which means a lit cigarette is a sure way to get us spotted in the dark of midnight.”_

_“Calm down, will ya?” replied the American, “We’ll hear ‘em coming. And chances are I’ll be done with this thing before he gets here.”_

_“Wankers like you are the reason I prefer to work alone,” replied the Brit. Well, he wasn’t actually British, but his fair skin led many to believe that he was born in the UK, as well as the modest accent he had developed during the large portion of his life which he had lived there. His employers had made clear that he would only be allowed to take this contract if the American, dubbed Brandt, accompanied him. Probably for insurance, and even though the Brit was adamant that he worked alone, the pay was too good to pass up._

_“You’re welcome to leave, asshole. Only problem is I’ll be collecting your paycheck then,” replied Brandt. The Brit wondered if Brandt was an alias or the man’s real name, who decided to use it because he believed no one would think any better. The Brit crouched up from his seated position from behind a large boulder and looked through the scope of his SA80, scanning the dust road which his target’s convoy would soon be driving on. The SA80 was the standard issue rifle for the British Army, a rifle which the Brit had become exceptionally adept with during his time with the Army. Thus, he continued to use it during the contracts he now received as a mercenary. The moonlight was bright enough for the features of the road and the surrounding areas just to be made out, but the night vision lens on the ACOG sight of the SA80 made the details far clearer to the Brit._

_The distant sound of car engines began to echo in the valleys of the Kashmiri mountains, causing Brandt to put out his cigarette and grab his M4A1. He joined the Brit by placing his rifle atop the boulder too, and staring at the valley from which the target would soon arrive. It took a couple of minutes for the convoy to arrive, and both the mercenaries couldn’t hide their displeasure upon seeing the number of vehicles._

_“What the fuck?” They both whispered the words simultaneously. Two regular trucks, presumably carrying combatants, one each behind and in front of the main vehicle, which they assumed would be the vehicle of the target._

_“They said the target was gonna be alone, and he’s travelling with two truck-loads of soldiers and in a Wolfhound,” said Brandt. A Wolfhound is a six-wheeled troop carrier which was specifically designed to be resistant to small arms and explosives, which meant the IED which they had placed on the road was not going to be particularly effective in destroying the vehicle. “Our IED ain’t gon’ do much to that thing.”_

_“Relax, we came prepared. I’ll use the RPG, you pick off any hostiles returning fire,” said the Brit, as he turned away and swapped his SA80 for an RPG-7. They watched as the convoy drove along the road, with Brandt patiently awaiting the moment he could trigger the IED. Closer, and closer the Wolfhound edged, and as Brandt triggered the IED, the Brit fired a rocket at the Wolfhound. They watched as the two explosions tipped it over, while the two trucks in front of them hastily spun around. Brandt immediately started firing shots as the men stepped out of the vehicle._

_“Goddammit, there’s at least 20 of them assholes!” said Brandt, as he noted the number of hostiles exiting the backs of the trucks. The Brit switched back to his SA80 before he too started to lay down fire. The little return fire that had come had strayed far from their position, with the silencers on their rifles disguising the muzzle flash and keeping their position secure._

_“Fish in a barrel,” said Brandt in between shots, as he continued to pick off the hostiles until they were certain it was safe to go down there and positively ID the target. Brandt slid down behind the boulder and reloaded his rifle while the Brit kept his eye on the trucks for any movement. “Shit!”_

_The Brit whipped around upon hearing his companion’s exclamation, being met with the sight of three armed men at the crevice of the small mountain a few meters behind them. The crevice led to a small jungle, wherein deep was the vehicle they could use to escape had things gone south. The men weren’t Indian army, they were most probably Hizbul Mujahideen, a terrorist group that operated in the area. They must have heard the commotion and decided to see what was happening for themselves. They immediately spotted Brandt and the Brit, raising their weapons to open fire. Several shots rang off before either Brandt or the Brit could fire back. It was only a second, but a second that proved vital in the fight for survival._

_The Brit returned fire quickly, sending out several well-placed shots which eliminated the three gunmen, but at the same time had felt as if a baseball bat had hit him straight in the gut. He pressed his hand to his stomach and glanced at the red moisture which had painted itself onto it. He tried to move but slumped to the floor when a burning sensation ripped through his leg too. A secondary bullet had ripped the tendons in his leg, while his stomach aggravatingly ached from the bullet which had lodged itself below his right rib cage. Normally, this would not be considered a lucky break, but when the Brit took note of his companion, who was missing the left half of his face, he was relieved to still be alive._

_He was bleeding out. He had the presence of mind to keep his rifle trained on the crevice in case any more hostiles appeared, but when the distant shouting and murmuring from behind him started, he realised that the threat was no longer in front of him. There were probably still close to a dozen of hostiles behind him. Fighting through the pain, he agonisingly perched his rifle back atop the boulder, firing at the group of men making their way in his direction. With his mag not even half-empty yet, the gun stopped firing. The Brit swore, his profanity echoing through the mountains. Nearly 10 years a combatant, and not once had a gun he used jammed until now._

_With his location now compromised, he felt another thud in his shoulder knock him back down, as the combatants below had finally managed to hit a target with their return fire. He groaned in pain as he reached to his hip to grab his sidearm. The chances of him making it out of there were practically zero. He had already begun to accept that he would die here, but he wasn’t going to die a coward. He was ready to fight until his last breath._

_“What a perfect shitstorm it had to be for me to die!” he exclaimed, as he crawled away from the cover of the boulder, managing to lay eyes on the group of men approaching his location. He lifted his pistol, ready to fire before suddenly…_

_Arrows began to rain down on the men. Dozens of arrows, causing them to drop like flies. Out of the shadows emerged black entities who converged on the bodies. What the hell were they? Demons? Jinns? Hallucinations? With not nearly enough ammo to take them all out, the Brit wondered if he too would become a victim to them. He watched as a lone figure amongst them began to approach him. He raised his pistol towards it, only for it to be shot out of his hand by an arrow before he could even fire a single shot. As it neared closer, he realised the figures weren’t demons. They were clothed in black and they were masked… assassins. The slender figure walked until it was directly above him._

_“Who are you?” muttered The Brit through the pain of his wounds. He was shocked when he saw the figure remove their mask, revealing the person underneath to be a young, blonde caucasian woman._

_“I am Ta-er al-Sahfer… and Ra’s Al Ghul wants to meet you.”_

_Ra’s Al Ghul… The Demon’s Head being the last thought on the Brit’s mind before the blood loss of his wounds caused him to lose consciousness…_


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Councilwoman Pollard becomes the target of a mysterious sniper.

**_[27 MAY 2024]_ **

**_[10 DAYS SINCE THE MASS SHOOTING]_ **

Councilwoman Emily Pollard exited her office at 19:30, as she did almost every day. She climbed into her Toyota and drove off, pressing her foot against the pedal a little harder than she usually did. With another tough day at work, she couldn't hide her displeasure at the current state of affairs in Star City. Of course, 7 years ago, the current state would have been considered a dream, but that didn't make the situation at hand any less displeasing. After all, a bar had now been set, and if standards dipped below the bar, it was natural to be annoyed.

She was still disappointed, if not irritated by the fact that she had lost the election for mayor. She had run unsuccessfully against Oliver Queen in 2020, and that loss hurt her pride far more than the recent one to Quentin Lance. Queen did good work, but a part of her still felt like a failure for losing to a college dropout at her own game. At least a loss to a former Police Captain and city councilman in Quentin Lance meant that the blow to her ego was far less severe.

Even though the current situation was hardly the fault of Lance, Pollard still believed that things would have been better if she was sitting in the big office herself. Crime had just spiked to its highest level since 2021, one of the deadliest mass shootings in the city's history took place, a new drug started to sweep the streets at a rate not seen since Vertigo, and Ricardo Diaz escaped from Slabside Penitentiary, all within the first month of Quentin Lance's tenure. Delusional or not, she believed such would have been prevented with her at the helm.

Other than this turn of events, things had been well for her and her family. Her daughter attained her degree in Marine Biology from Starling University, and her son had just graduated high school. With her son's move to college, she and her husband had sold their old house and moved into a smaller, but comfier home in the suburbs. Her husband had brought a new client into the law firm that he worked at, a deal which added significantly to their income. If she had successfully run for mayor, it would have been a perfect start to the year for the Pollard family, but alas, she knew life was rarely fair.

On the way home, she stopped by at a restaurant to pick up some carry-out dinner for her and her husband. She hopped back into the driver's seat of her car after collecting her order and peered inside the packet. She took out a couple of hot chips, looking to just nibble on them before she set off on a drive again. She didn't have the opportunity to place them in her mouth, as two bullets burst through her windshield and shredded her chest. She tried to scream for help, but her voice had left her. She reached for her door handle, but by then it was too late, as the third round passed straight through her skull, this shot being the one that ensured her death.

Meanwhile, from the roof of a hotel a hundred meters away, the killer muttered the mantra that had been spoken to him hundreds of times throughout his life.

"Two to the chest, one to the head."

The Triple Tap, usually used in close-quarters combat, but he thought why not just fire a couple of extra rounds into the woman. He picked up the three shell-casings from the floor next to him, before packing away his rifle and leaving his position.

* * *

**_(21:57 – 2 FEBRUARY 2013)_ **

_With the blood now starting to settle in his head, Oliver Queen flipped his legs forward off the wall and stood back up. Grabbing a towel, he dabbed the few sweat droplets forming in his hairline following the 25 handstand pushups. A simple warmup for him, activating his deltoids and triceps which were going to be used in drawing his bow several times tonight. He took a sip of water before focusing on the picture of the middle-aged businessman displayed on his computer screen. Some would say the man possessed an innocent smile, but beneath that smile was a malicious immoral bastard, who was currently unknowingly spending his last few moments on this Earth. Oliver heard the heavy footsteps on the metal stairs behind him, immediately recognising their pattern as the one that belonged to his trusty bodyguard._

_"So, is this the first unfortunate soul that will be paid a visit by The Hood tonight?" asked Diggle, as he walked up next to Oliver and eyed the screen._

_"Gregory Davenport," replied Oliver, as he sat down before explaining more about the man, "On the surface, he's a modestly wealthy CEO of a water purification company. However, most of his wealth actually comes from money laundering, illegal casinos, and human trafficking. Particularly, child sex trafficking."_

_"Talk about a scumbag," remarked Diggle with disgust._

_"Word is that he'll be visiting one of his warehouses from where he runs his operations tonight. Precisely at 22:15. Tonight, I'm crossing Mr Davenport off The List," said Oliver, as he rose from the chair and grabbed his hood._

_"Hey," called out Diggle, "I know I gave you hell over the whole Claybourne situation, but I think maybe it would be better for everybody if you put this guy down." Oliver nodded, acknowledging Diggle's request and sharing the same disgust of Davenport's child trafficking operation._

_"You can take the night off, Dig," said Oliver, surprising him, "Davenport is the only man I'm crossing off tonight."_

_"What, so you can go home and catch up on some much-needed sleep?" joked Diggle._

_Oliver smiled before replying. "Yeah, actually. You should too."_

* * *

_No more than a few minutes later, Oliver found himself carefully treading through the warehouse. He lifted himself up onto a large storage platform and continued his trek on the following elevated platforms. From here, he was high enough to not be seen by anybody in the warehouse as well as have a vantage point to snipe off enemies. The warehouse was massive, large enough for one to get lost in and definitely large enough for someone to not even realise that children were often kept here before they were sent off to a depraved politician or a hotel looking to offer their guests something extra._

_Oliver moved towards the faint voices echoing in the building. He couldn't particularly make out what they were saying, but he could make out that there were at least four men, judging from the different tones and pitches. Davenport had arrived a little earlier than expected, so chances were he was at least one of the men currently in the vicinity._

_Suddenly, the echo of a door being pushed open was accompanied by two newer voices. Oliver stopped in his tracks upon hearing one of the voices. It was the voice of a young girl, and her loud screams and pleas were followed by a much deeper voice telling her to shut up. Something about the girl's voice threw Oliver off guard. It was familiar… he felt as if he had heard it before. Her pleas were loud enough to cause Oliver to pick up the pace and move more hastily in her direction. Eventually, he was close enough to be able to fully make out what they were saying._

_"Please, Dad! No…"_

_"Shut up!"_

_A distinct third voice chimed in, one which Oliver fully recognised as Davenport's. "I like her fighting attitude, John. Don't worry, honey. You'll lose that pretty soon."_

_"Fuck you!" she replied, startling Oliver with her vulgarity._

_"You take her, that makes us even," said the other man known as John._

_"Yes," replied Davenport._

_"You can't do this to me. I'm your daughter!"_

_"Shut up!" exclaimed Davenport, as Oliver made out the thud of a punch, "You can leave now Mr King," said Davenport._

_With those last words from Davenport, Oliver finally found himself on a platform adjacent to the area where the interactions were occurring. He had a clear view of everybody there. Two gunmen and two unarmed thugs near Davenport, the blonde girl on the floor and John King, several meters away from them starting to make his way back to the door. Oliver watched as Davenport grabbed the girl by her hair, tugging her up to face him. As the girl's head rose from the floor, Oliver for the first time got a clear look at her bruised face. The familiarity of the voice became clear in his head as he recognised her immediately, feeling a visceral, primal anger boil up inside of him. Mia…_

_"Get away from her!" screamed Oliver. The two gunmen managed to discharge their firearms, but none of their bullets hit Oliver before he fired arrows through their chests. He leapt down towards Davenport. Just before the two thugs ran to engage him, he fired one more arrow, this one directly through the heart of John King._

_Oliver easily dispatched of the two untrained thugs, whose bone cracks were painfully audible from the power with which Oliver struck them. All it took Oliver was a combined four precise blows to incapacitate the thugs. He then turned to face Davenport, who was holding Mia close to him with his left arm while placing a gun next to her head._

_"Take one more step towards me and I'll blow her brains out, asshole," he said, quivering in front of the hooded vigilante. Unfortunately for him, Oliver was not in the mood to rescind to his demands. He quickly withdrew a flechette, flinging it towards the extensor tendons of Davenport's right hand. Davenport yelled in pain, dropping the gun to the floor and letting go of Mia. Oliver wasted no time in putting two arrows in his chest, one extra for good measure. He looked back at the young girl, who collapsed back down onto the floor, shivering and trembling with tears rolling down her cheeks. Oliver ran to her, dropping his bow and bringing his hands reassuringly up to her cheeks._

_"Mia," he said concernedly, wiping the tears and blood from her face with his thumbs, "It's okay, it's okay." His words couldn't bring her out of her shock, as she continued to weep without bringing her face up to look at his. Trying to comfort her, Oliver acted without thought as he brought a hand up towards his hood, ready to flip it off…_

_But just as he felt his fingers brush against the side of his hood, he stopped, as the sounds of police sirens started to ring out around the building. A nearby patrol must have heard the gunshots…_

_"You're going to be okay, Mia," said Oliver affectionately before he rose to his feet, grabbing his bow and sprinting off just as he heard the police officers burst into the building._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver starts to have suspicions that the recent events in the city are connected, and begins investigating them.

Arriving outside the Robert Queen Applied Sciences Center, Oliver was not surprised by the yellow tape and couple of police cars stationed right by the entrance of the building. Last night, the facility had been broken into, around the same time that Emily Pollard had been murdered, and Oliver had yet to find out what had been taken. He stepped out of his car and made his way towards the entrance, ducking under the yellow tape and stepping inside.

He scoured the facility, hoping to find someone who would explain to him the circumstances. He didn't have to look for long, as Detective Mack Morgan took his attention off of a shelf in front of him and jogged over to Oliver upon seeing him.

"Mr Queen," said the young man.

"Detective," replied Oliver, "I hope this doesn't come off the wrong way, but shouldn't a detective of your caliber be at Councilwoman Pollard's crime scene?"

"I was there last night, sir. Thought I'd come here today and just take a look," he replied.

"Thank you, I appreciate that."

"I see you know your way around a crime scene," noted Morgan, pointing to the plastic sleeves covering the soles of Oliver's shoes.

Oliver shrugged his shoulders with a half-smile in reply. "So, what happened?"

"Uhh, right. So, the CCTV cameras went out about 40 seconds before the alarm was sounded, and they stayed out for 3 minutes. So presumably, these guys were in and out quick. All guards on site were killed, shot in the head, so no witnesses," explained Morgan.

"Any idea of what was taken?" asked Oliver.

"They haven't finished taking inventory, but so far, only one item has been reported missing," replied Morgan, before quickly checking his notes to confirm the name of the item, "A DX-60 Augmentor. Sorry, I'm not much of a tech guy, so I don't know what it is. Any idea on what it is and why someone would want to steal it?"

"No, no idea," replied Oliver. He didn't know what the DX-60 Augmentor was either, "Is that it?"

"Yeah, so far, that's all we got."

"Alright, I won't take up any more of your time," replied Oliver before shaking Morgan's hand. He turned to walk away, but turned back when a thought struck him. "By the way, anything of interest surrounding the circumstances of Councilwoman Pollard's death?"

"Well, as a detective, I'm not allowed to share the details of that investigation with you…" replied Morgan, "But just between you and me, sir… Councilwoman Pollard wasn't just murdered. She was assassinated."

"Thank you," replied Oliver, before walking away. Pollard was assassinated and Queen Industries was now broken into amidst a crime surge in Star City. Very strange circumstances, made even stranger by the sudden news alert he just received on his phone…

_'Ricardo Diaz Escapes from Slabside Prison'_

The headline was troubling, to say the least. Too many bad things were happening in the city consecutively, and Oliver had a horrible feeling that something larger was at play here in the city. He attempted to reprimand himself for such a silly conspiracy theory, thinking that it was a coincidence that all of a sudden, gang activity, murders and other crimes had spiked since Quentin had become mayor. One could chalk these occurences up to criminals thinking that a change in administration means the time is ripe for them to become bold once again, but Oliver couldn't shake the feeling that there was an agenda at play here.

He simply had to find out whether he was right or wrong.

* * *

Entering into the Queen Industries office building, Oliver found himself being greeted by many of his employees not in a dissimilar fashion to how many would greet their boss. He was used to it by now, having been treated similarly over the past few years as a mayor. Other than the new renovations, the layout of the building hadn't changed at all over the years, and Oliver found himself in an elevator taking him to the 22nd floor where the IT department was located.

As the elevator door pinged and he stepped out, he momentarily thought back to the earlier times that he had done this. Nearly 12 years ago now, when he'd drop in to ask something of Felicity accompanied by a bogus excuse. Exactly what he was going to do now. Well, at least now he wasn't asking for anything extraordinary and his excuse was going to be fairly believable since it was technically true.

"Excuse me," said Oliver, as he approached the desk of a young man who he thought might be an intern. The young man immediately shot to his feet when he recognised Oliver, nervously wiping his hand on his shirt and offering it to Oliver.

"Mr Queen," he said hastily, "Asghar. Asghar Hamid. It's my name, sir."

"No need for the formalities, Asghar," replied Oliver with a smile, "I'm not officially your boss, so you can just call me Oliver."

"Oh no, it doesn't feel right, sir. Can I get you anything?"

"Yes, you can. A laptop." Oliver's reply confused the man on multiple levels.

"Pardon, sir?"

"Well, you see, I have a friend who works for the CIA, and his birthday is coming up soon. I wanted to get him something which he could use for his work, so I figured a laptop with obscene processing power. Enough for him to do whatever spy-stuff he needs to, you know what I mean?"

"I understand perfectly, sir."

"I was just wondering if Queen Industries has anything of the sort?"

"I think I know just what you're looking for," replied Asghar, as he grabbed a note and a pen, "The Kell BM-12 Series. Manufactured by one of our subsidiaries. Fitted with a 40-core processor that provides 80 threads of simultaneous multi-processing power. That good enough?" he asked as he handed the note to Oliver.

"Sounds like it. Do you happen to know where I'll be able to get one?"

"Uhh, it's actually only going to release in a month, so you'd have to pick it up directly from a warehouse. You know what, Mr Queen, I'll save you the trouble. I'll phone the warehouse and have them directly send it to your residence, how about that?"

"I'd much appreciate that," replied Oliver, "Oh and by the way, do you have any idea what the DX-60 Augmentor is?"

"Yes. It's an electromagnetic field amplifier. The DX-60 is the latest design manufactured by Applied Sciences."

"Ok. Thank you for your help, Asghar."

"No problem, sir."

* * *

**_[11 YEARS AGO]_ **

_"For some reason, I had a feeling you wouldn't go home after what happened," said Diggle, as he returned to the lair to find Oliver seated by his computer, who remained silent. It had been an hour since Oliver had taken down Davenport, with the events making their way to the news surprisingly quickly. Along with the bodies of Gregory Davenport, John King and several thugs, 8 girls all between the ages of 10 to 16 were found at the warehouse and had been taken to Starling General to receive medical attention._

_"How did you know?" asked Oliver._

_"Like I said, just a feeling," replied Diggle, as he came up next to Oliver. He was surprised to find himself being handed a file by Oliver, "What's this?" he asked, immediately receiving his answer upon opening it. He studied the picture of the young girl. She looked perhaps 14 or 15, and Diggle noted she had a modest resemblance to Felicity Smoak._

_"Mia Dearden," said Oliver, "One of the girls that were at the warehouse. She's also the same girl that was stuck in the gang shootout two weeks ago."_

_"She's the girl you rescued?" asked Diggle, receiving a nod from Oliver in reply._

_"Born and raised in The Glades. Growing up, she displayed cognitive abilities far surpassing others her age. At the age of 5, she was already in first grade and at the top of her class. A child prodigy, you could say. Then, when she was 8, her marks began to drop. A short while before that, her mother became addicted to drugs and her father started drinking more."_

_"Why the sudden change?" asked Diggle, drawing a long, guilt-ridden sigh from Oliver._

_"Her parents both used to work at Queen Consolidated," he replied slowly, "They got laid off without a severance package, and since then they couldn't find a steady income."_

_"Oliver, I know what you're about to say man…"_

_"And I know what you're going to tell me in reply. That this isn't my fault. Maybe you're right. But last week, her mother died of a Vertigo overdose. That's on my conscience. If I had stopped The Count earlier, maybe I could have saved her mother, but then again, she was only ever in that position because of what my father did all those years ago."_

_"Isn't that the point of this crusade man? To right the wrongs of what the privileged have done to this city?" Oliver didn't answer Diggle directly, instead replying with a request after a long silence._

_"Dig, I need a favour."_

_"Sure."_

_"I need you to find this girl a well-off foster family outside of Starling. One that can give her everything she deserves and needs to succeed in life." Diggle pondered the request for a few seconds, before a thought struck him._

_"You know that I'm not too fond of The Hood and Laurel Lance working together, but I think with what she does at CNRI, this one might be right up her alley. Run this by her first."_

_Oliver nodded, before standing up and making his way towards the stairs._

_"Oliver," he heard Diggle call out to him, "You did good man. Not everything bad that happens in this city is your fault."_

_Then why does it feel that way, thought Oliver to himself._

* * *

Within no more than a couple of hours, Asghar Hamid had pulled through for Oliver and the laptop had been delivered to his apartment. Oliver wasn't at all a tech junkie, but even he marvelled at the sleek and exquisite design of the laptop. He couldn't help but imagine how William would have freaked and geeked out if he was here to see it. The laptop booted up quickly, but it was going to take Oliver a while before the software he needed was going to be up and running. He paled in comparison to the other tech wizards he had encountered in his lifetime, but he knew enough to hold his own in that department, so to speak.

The reason he opted to do it this way was literally because he didn't have any other way. Looking deeper into the current events would be done best without attracting attention from anyone. For that reason, he couldn't use ARGUS, because Diggle would ask too many questions and they probably wouldn't let him just waltz in and use their computers anyway. The only other place he could use was The Bunker, but that was out of the question. The computers there were likely defunct by now, but even if they weren't, Oliver would prefer not to go back down there. After the incident, he practically swore to himself that he'd never return, only having to make an exception on one occasion when the Nazis from Earth-X invaded. If he went back there now, the place would only be a stark reminder of things he'd rather not be reminded of.

Once the software was working, he wasted no time in searching up the victims of the mass shooting and reading their dossiers. The first few victims seemed to have been just normal civilians, but it was the seventh file where Oliver thought he may have hit the jackpot. A businessman by the name of Jermaine Stafford. The name sounded familiar to Oliver at first, and then it clicked. Stafford was the co-owner of Starling Port along with a man named Albert Davis. The idea that Davis ordered the killing of his partner in order to attain full ownership of their company immediately popped into Oliver's head. It made perfect sense at first glance, but as he thought more about it, it started to seem more and more implausible.

The dossier read that Davis and Stafford were good friends, so unless the relationship was strained to the point where it was just purely business, Davis orchestrating the murder would be unlikely. Even if that was the case, Davis would have had plenty of other conspicuous, less messy ways to kill Stafford. The most telling fact for Oliver was that there were 10 other victims the night of the shooting. He himself did say that the other victims could have been a way of leading investigators astray, but could he really attribute Davis as a man who'd sacrifice 11 lives just so he could take full control of a company? He was clean as a whistle in that regard, with modest philanthropic efforts and no criminal record.

Still, Oliver knew all too well about people leading double lives, and a mass shooting could be the perfect excuse to explain for the sudden death of a business partner. He remembered that there were still 4 other victims to look at. Perhaps the answers he was looking for would be there, but if they weren't, he knew he'd have to look deeper into Stafford and Davis.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver researches further into the mass shooting, while in the past, Mia receives help from Laurel Lance.

The dossiers of the other five victims were as bland as the first six. If there was a larger agenda at play with the shooting, it definitely revolved around Stafford and Davis. Whatever surface research Oliver could do regarding potential motivations proved fruitless. Davis was not married, so the age-old “revenge for screwing my wife” reason was thrown out the window. Furthermore, Oliver couldn’t find anything to suggest that Stafford was stealing from the business or making Davis take a pay cut. In fact, Davis was the more extravagant of the two, with Stafford keeping a low-profile and not spending his profits on lavish excesses. Regarding what their shipping company was bringing in, it all seemed standard procedure. Construction materials, online retail items and product orders from local businesses.

A thought crossed Oliver’s mind during his research. The sudden gang activity in The Glades had seemingly been bolstered by an influx of drugs and weapons. A fleeting rumour was that a new, addictive drug was starting to make its way to the streets, with the police clueless as to how it popped up. Could it be that Davis and Stafford were using their ships to transport the drugs and weapons into the city? And that Stafford wanted out of the operation and Davis couldn’t take the risk of him blowing the whistle? No, the more likely case was that Stafford was unaware of the dealings and when he found out, he threatened to blow the whistle unless Davis stopped. A bold theory, one that was only backed up by weak circumstantial evidence.

With a yawn, Oliver glanced at the time and realised he had been glued to the laptop for several hours now. He decided to call it a day, closing the laptop and changing into pyjamas before climbing into bed. In the past, he would’ve worked through the night, not stopping until he was either sure or dismissive of his theories, but he took solace in the fact that the SCPD and ACU were probably doing the same research as him and that he could trust them with getting to the bottom of this. If that was the case though, then why did he even bother with doing research himself?

In fact, why was he so worried about this current slate of events at all? Star City had been equipped with the tools to deal with anything of the sort over the past seven years. He was the one who had personally made sure of that. Maybe he was overthinking things. After all, with all this free time on his hands, perhaps he just wanted to believe that there was something to look into so that he could waste some of this newfound free time. The city was in good hands. So good that probably whatever matters he was worried about would all be cleared up in good time, and then he could finally take up that position at Queen Industries that was waiting so patiently for him.

And yet, despite whatever reassurances that were in place, Oliver Queen did not have a peaceful sleep.

* * *

**_[11:42 – 5 FEBRUARY 2013]_ **

_Mia Dearden sat anxiously in her hospital ward, alone. Her jaw ached whenever she tried to chew, and her fractured cheekbone pained greatly whenever she moved a muscle on her face. It didn’t take long for the dreadful realisation that she was now an orphan to sink in. On top of that, she had no other family to take her in. She shed no tears for her father. Her love for him deteriorated each time he had laid a hand on her or her mother, and it fully vanquished when he decided to sell her into the sex trade to pay off his gambling debts._

_She had cried herself to sleep every night since her mother’s passing. Despite her drug addiction, her mother had always tried her best to give Mia a good life, and now, she had no one left. What would become of her? She couldn’t go back to school, because she had no one to pay her fees. Once she was out of the hospital, would she just spend the rest of her days scavenging for scraps on the streets?_

_Her thoughts were interrupted when a slender, brunette woman entered the ward. She was dressed smartly in grey formal clothes, holding a couple of files close to her chest._

_“Hello, Mia,” said the woman kindly with a smile._

_“Hi,” she replied nervously, unsure of what to make of the woman, who pulled up a chair and sat next to her bed. Mia shifted herself backwards, sitting more upright before conversing with the woman._

_“My name is Laurel Lance. I’m an attorney at CNRI. Do you know what that is?”_

_“Uhh, no, Miss Lance.”_

_Laurel chuckled at how Mia referred to her. “You can just call me Laurel, Mia. CNRI is a law firm that provides free help to disenfranchised people like you. I heard about your case, and I decided to try to help you”. Laurel handed the two files to Mia before speaking further. “I’ve managed to find two foster families who are willing to take you in as soon as you’d like. I can personally vouch for them, Mia. I can assure you that you will be in good hands.”_

_“What’s the difference between the two?” asked Mia._

_“One family is here in Starling. The other is in Seattle. After your ordeal, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to stay in Starling City or not.”_

_Mia opened the file of the family in Seattle, skimming through it before she made a final decision. “There’s nothing left for me here in Starling. I’d like to go to the… Ryans,” said Mia, momentarily glancing back at the file to recall the name of the family._

_“Okay, great. So, you’re going to be in the hospital for just a couple more days to recover. I will sort everything out. You don’t have to worry about anything, okay?” Laurel took Mia’s hand in hers, having picked up on her anxious demeanour. “It’s all going to be okay, Mia.”_

_“It’s him, isn’t it?” asked Mia._

_“Pardon?”_

_“The Hood. He told you about me, didn’t he?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Next time you see him, please just tell him I said thank you. Will you do that for me?”_

_“Of course,” replied Laurel, before she pulled out a small card and handed it to Mia, “That’s my number. If you need anything, or even if you just want to talk, call me, okay?”_

_“Okay,” replied Mia, as Laurel smiled at her affectionately before letting go of her hand and standing up. A thought struck Mia, and she called after Laurel just before she was about to exit the room. “Laurel… Who’s paying for my hospital bills?”_

_“Normally in such a case, you’d be treated for free.”_

_“But there’s a lot of girls from the warehouse here. Surely the hospital needs to cover the costs somehow?” Laurel noted her intelligence, perhaps a little too much for a girl of her age._

_“Someone is paying, Mia, but he doesn’t want anyone to know. He doesn’t want any credit or publicity for it,” replied Laurel._

_“Is he paying for the other girls too?” Laurel nodded. “Could you please tell me? I promise I won’t tell anyone.” Laurel hesitated for a moment, before deciding that it wouldn’t do any harm to tell her._

_“It’s Oliver Queen, Mia.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick thanks to all of you who are reading, commenting and leaving kudos! I appreciate all of you.
> 
> Things have been uneventful so far, but the action is going to pick up very soon, and we're going to see how Mia's story ties into the present.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver reaches out to an old "friend" to help him with his investigation.

Two more days passed, and the knot in Oliver’s stomach which he had tried to convince himself would go away had not. In fact, the knot had tightened due to the state of affairs in the city having just worsened exponentially. Starling Bank had been robbed, cleaned out in minutes, while the ACU conducted a raid on a suspected warehouse where they believed Ricardo Diaz was hiding. Needless to say, the raid had gone horribly wrong. Diaz escaped and two ACU officers lost their lives. The only positive was that they had managed to find a few stashes of the new drug that the Scorpions, Diaz’s old gang, were distributing in the streets.

While Star City was the closest metropolis to Slabside Penitentiary, there was little reason to believe that Ricardo Diaz himself had returned to Star City. Having just escaped from a Supermax Prison, why would he go back to the one place where he was most likely to get caught again? For Oliver, the fact that Diaz was in Star City and back to his old ways confirmed his initial thoughts on Diaz’s escape. Slabside was practically impossible to break out of, so as soon as he had heard the news, Oliver had suspected that he didn’t ‘break out’, but was rather ‘broken’ out.

By who seemed rather unimportant initially. By an old associate or by someone who owed him a debt were the most plausible explanations. Ricardo Diaz was a highly-skilled, dangerous man, but there was nothing he presented which could not be found in the underworld by hundreds of other mercenaries. Except for one thing…

Ricardo Diaz knew Star City like the back of his hand. He knew the legal structures inside out, and was familiar with every place in the city where he could hide. This meant that whoever had broken him out not only had a plan for him, but for the whole city itself. The rise of crime in The Glades coinciding with Diaz’s escape and reaffiliation with his old gang? That was not something Oliver could just gloss over. Nor the fact that this too was taking place amongst several other things which only made the situation worse.

A bank robbery, an assassination, a mass shooting, theft of extremely valuable tech from Queen Industries, a likely soon-to-be drug epidemic, and gangs starting to get their hands on military-grade equipment – These events were all too uncanny, drastic and contemporary to be unconnected in Oliver’s eyes. Most would say he was being paranoid, but he’d seen things far stranger than a simple plot to elevate crime in a city.

He’d forced himself to steer away from the laptop on his desk over the past few days, but right now he couldn’t do that even if he wanted to. He went over to it and booted it up once again.

He searched the dark web for any recent black market sales of a DX-60 Augmentor, but there was nothing, which meant that whoever had stolen it was planning to use it for something. Regarding weapons, he checked to see if any nearby military bases had reported stolen weapon caches. Nothing. The new drug on the streets was called ‘Burnout’, having first appeared in Chile and now known as one of the most addictive substances on the planet.

After several hours of sifting through whatever data he could find, Oliver’s lack of expertise in the cyber-field had caught up with him. He’d just fallen short at the most important part of his research, and it was partly his fault for equipping the SCPD with a cyber-security protocol that could stop its files from being accessed by most cyber-terrorists out there.

Whatever he had found so far had nothing to suggest that it was all linked, but Oliver simply knew that couldn’t be true. If he wanted to confirm his suspicions, he had to gain access to the SCPD case files on everything that has occurred in the city over the past month. Such was impossible for Oliver to do without attracting attention to himself.

Firstly, he doubted he could get through the firewalls protecting the SCPD database, and even if he did, the system would likely pick up his intrusion and a SWAT Team would descend on his location before he could even reach his car. Secondly, he couldn’t simply ask Quentin for the files without being questioned, nor could he expect Detective Mack Morgan to comply to his demands even if Oliver pulled an old trick out of his sleeve. Lastly, Oliver couldn’t just break into SCPD and steal the paper files himself. If he tried, he’d be taking a massive risk where the odds of him getting caught would be exponentially higher than success.

There was only one way to get the files, and that was getting into the system without being noticed and by shutting down the security measures before it picked up on your intrusion. Something that only an expert hacker could do. He tried to think of anybody that could potentially help him. Someone not just good enough to do the job, but also someone who he could trust and would be crazy enough to trust him. The person sprung to mind after several minutes of intense thought but he immediately scolded himself and cast the thought of her aside. He couldn’t involve her in this. Would she trust him? After all these years with everything that’s happened in the meantime, would she still even believe him? Oliver closed his eyes and pinched his brow while straining his mind to think of an alternative. There were none. Right now, this was the only way.

He made his way to the closet in his room, and opened the secret latch at the bottom where he kept emergency supplies. A large bag full of cash, several encrypted burner phones, and a 9mm Beretta with 5 mags. He took out a burner phone from the stash, and after a quick search for her number, regrettably made the call.

* * *

Mia Dearden entered her small, but cozy apartment in downtown Seattle. She immediately switched on the kettle, before heading to her bathroom to take a shower. This time of year, the weather in Seattle started to warm up, but today had been a cold, rainy day, so Mia relished the hot shower. She had stayed overtime at work today, sorting through exabytes of metadata all with the purpose of making the world a better place. Or at least, she hoped it did.

Only three years into her work as an ARGUS agent, Mia had already gained enough respect and recognition from her superiors to be offered a promotion to ARGUS’s main headquarters in Star City. She could not give an answer to the offer immediately, needing more time to reflect on such a decision. Normally, another agent would jump at the opportunity. In fact, the promotion wouldn’t be an offer, it would be an order, but Director Michaels knew very well of Mia’s troubled history with Star City, and assured her that she was not under any obligation to accept the offer.

After graduating from Caltech in 2021, Director Michaels herself approached Mia directly and offered recruitment into ARGUS. While Mia had never thought of working for an intelligence agency, a part of her always wanted to do something which she felt would help make the world a better place. With her technological gifts, she could have ventured into various other areas, but the once-in-a-lifetime offer from ARGUS coupled with an opportunity to make the world a better place proved too good to turn down.

After everything that had happened to her, it would have been too easy for her to become angry at the world and become selfish, but Mia had a hero to look up to who convinced her not to. The Hood had saved her life twice. One could even say thrice when he tasked Laurel Lance with providing her with a foster family who would eventually go on to adopt her. Despite relocating to Seattle, she stayed up-to-date with everything concerning him. Personally, she believed that The Hood, later The Arrow, and the Green Arrow were the same person, with Roy Harper being one of his partners who chose to take the fall for him. While some theorised that the Green Arrow had died following the riddance of Adrian Chase, she found that hard to believe.

Or perhaps, she didn’t want to believe it. Perhaps she wanted to believe the man who gave up so much for Star City and that had saved her life had simply rode off into the sunset after taking down Adrian Chase, and that he and his team were now living normal lives. She knew such a theory was far too idealistic for the world that she lived in, but she still had an undeniable feeling that the man under the hood was still out there, somewhere…

After her quick shower, she returned to the kitchen and poured herself a large mug of tea. While she waited for the brew to strengthen, her phone started vibrating. The caller ID ominously displayed “BLOCKED”, the caller obviously encrypting their details. Mia answered, expecting to hear the voice of an ARGUS superior, but was instead met with a low, distorted voice.

_“Hello, Mia. Long time, no talk.”_ Mia immediately picked up on the tone and depth of the voice, recognising that the caller was using a modulator to mask their identity.

“Who are you?” asked Mia.

_“It’s the Green Arrow. You knew me as The Hood when we first met.”_

Mia almost knocked her mug over when she heard the words. If the man under the hood really was calling her, then all of her suspicions about him were true. Despite the surprise, her training kicked in and she replied with the most sensible answer.

“Disregarding the fact that no one has seen the Green Arrow in seven years, I still have no way of verifying your identity. I’m going to need a little more than that to believe you.” A short silence followed before he replied.

_“The first night I rescued you, I told you to make me a promise. A promise to stay off the streets of The Glades at night. Do you remember?”_

His reply all but confirmed it for Mia. She had told others about that night, but never the exact words that he had spoken to her. It was him, and after a decade, she was once again speaking to the man who had changed her life so profoundly.

“Yes… I remember,” replied Mia, the short phrase being all she could muster to say.

_“I need your help, Mia.”_ Another bombshell dropped on her. What could the Green Arrow possibly need her help with?

“Me? What do you need?” she asked.

_“I need you to hack into the Star City Police Database and find me the case files and reports of Emily Pollard’s murder, the Nelson Plaza mass shooting, the Starling Bank robbery, and Ricardo Diaz’s escape from Slabside Penitentiary. Also, I need you to find me anything related to the recent influx of weapons and a drug called ‘Burnout’ into The Glades. For that, start by looking into anything suspicious about Starling Port.”_

“That’s it?” asked Mia, surprised at how relatively easy the task sounded. “Sounds like you could have done this yourself.”

_“I know my way around a computer, but the SCPD has one of the best cyber-security systems in the world, courtesy of Queen Industries.”_

“I’ll be the judge of that,” joked Mia.

_“Once you have all of it, call me back on this number and I’ll tell you how to send it to me. How soon can you get it?”_

“I think I might be able to get into SCPD and find the files fairly quickly,” replied Mia confidently, “But looking for anything suspicious about Starling Port might take a bit longer and my work might get in the way. So let’s just say 24 hours.”

_“I understand. Thank you, Mia.”_

“No problem.” Before he could cut the call, she quickly spoke up, “Hey… does this mean you’re back?” A silence of several seconds followed as she waited eagerly for an answer.

_“Depends on what I find in those case files... Have a good night, Mia.”_

“You too,” replied Mia before the call ended.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver reports the findings of his investigation to Quentin just as a shocking incident happens at City Hall.

The call had come a little earlier than expected. It had been 18 hours exactly since he had contacted Mia, and he was sure that she’d take the full 24 hours to find what he needed. The early call had meant that she had either rushed the job, or that she was just that good. From what Oliver knew about her, it was definitely the latter.

He’d kept tabs on her ever since the day he’d rescued her from Davenport’s warehouse. At first, it was his guilt over her mother’s death that drove him to ensure her future would be secured. For her first few months in Seattle, he kept a close eye on her. “Like an anonymous guardian angel”, Kara once likened him to. Once she’d started to settle in with her new family and started to fulfill her potential, he backed off, only helping once by telling Lyla to consider recruiting her into her ARGUS.

He answered the call from Mia hastily. “Got it already?” he asked.

_“Retrieving the files from SCPD wasn’t too hard. It took me longer to look through Starling Port, but it was a slow day at work, so I got it done. How do you want this?”_

Oliver gave her the server address for his VPN to allow a wireless file transfer. As the files downloaded, he asked her about Starling Port. ”What did you find on Starling Port?”

_“Not much. Seems pretty clean to me, but I did find something that may be of interest. I checked the load plans for several of their ships, and for the past month, each ship’s cargo has been under the limit by 10 metric tonnes when usually, they pack it to the brim.”_

“That could easily be explained as them having fewer orders, or a simple calculation mistake,” replied Oliver.

_“Yeah, I know, but you told me to look into Starling Port for a reason, and given the weapon and drug influx into the city, I don’t think it’s far-fetched to say that 10 tons of undocumented cargo are how the weapons and drugs are being smuggled into the city.”_

Oliver pondered on her theory for a few seconds before replying. “Makes sense.” He glanced at the monitor, noting the files had been downloaded. “Thank you for your help, Mia. I really appreciate it.”

_“Is this the last I’ll be hearing from you?”_

“I’ve already involved you in this more than I wanted. If you do hear from me again, it’ll probably only be under dire circumstances.”

_“If this is the last time, then good luck. I hope you find what you’re looking for... Or not, I guess.”_

“Goodbye, Mia.”

_“Bye.”_

As soon as the call ended, Oliver immediately began looking through the files. He read through the findings of the cases thoroughly, pausing on almost every single word to make sure he didn’t miss anything. He started with the mass shooting and Emily Pollard’s murder, before moving on to the bank robbery and Diaz’s escape from Slabside. As he digested the information and his mind finally came to a conclusion, his gut churned with distress. For a minute, his thoughts resonated with Mia’s words as he contemplated whether he had found what he either did or didn’t want.

Nonetheless, he had to do something. He swiftly made a summarised dossier of his findings before hastily leaving his apartment and setting off to City Hall.

* * *

Quentin Lance pinched his brow following a large gulp of water from the glass on his desk. Oliver was right that the responsibility of being the mayor would start to bear heavier on him over time. While Quentin had been through far tougher times than the current situation at hand, his first month in office almost couldn’t have gone any worse. Crime and drug use was spiking to levels not seen since 2021 with the city’s most notorious drug-lord back on the streets. The death of two council members hadn’t helped either, with Pollard being murdered and Councilman Kullens having apparently committed suicide a few weeks ago. His thoughts were interrupted when the door to his office practically burst open.

“Oliver?” he said in surprise, immediately noting Oliver’s anxious movements as he closed the door behind himself.

“Sorry for the late visit, but it’s urgent,” replied Oliver.

“Don’t worry about it. You know if it’s an emergency then I’m here to help,” replied Quentin. He could sense that Oliver’s silence was because of his nerves. “Oliver, what is it?”

“Quentin… something is going on in this city.”

“Crime spikes are nothing new, Oliver,” replied Quentin coolly, but Oliver persisted.

“This isn’t a normal crime spike, Quentin.” Oliver handed over his dossier before he continued. “The mass shooting. The shooter used 7.62x54mmR rounds which had to have been fired by a Dragunov, a Russian military-grade rifle. Those were also the same rounds used to murder Emily Pollard.”

“You’re suggesting it was the same shooter?”

“Yes, and I don’t think Councilman Kullens committed suicide either. I think he was murdered too.”

“So, you think a serial killer is targeting city council members?” asked Quentin, with doubt in his voice.

“No, Quentin, it’s deeper than that. Gang activity in The Glades is resurgent, and they’re being equipped with military-grade weapons and are selling drugs which I think are being shipped in via the docks.” Quentin’s silence as he read through the dossier prompted Oliver to continue speaking.

“Ricardo Diaz didn’t break out of prison by himself, he was broken out by the people that I think are behind all of this. At the prison, someone got in, and within minutes they were out. CCTV cameras were shut down. No witnesses. Same MO for the Starling Bank robbery and for the Applied Sciences break-in.”

“Who are these people and why the hell would they be doing this?”

“I don’t know, Quentin. Whoever is behind all of this, I don’t know why they’re doing it, I’m just sure that they are doing it.”

“How the hell did you even get all of this information?” asked Quentin, as he lifted his head from the dossier.

“Just… an old friend helped me out.”

“Yeah, right… I don’t know Oliver,” said Quentin, as he dropped the dossier on his desk, “I’m going to be honest with you. I think you’re being parano-“

Quentin’s words were cut short when two bullets punched through a glass window and embedded themselves in his chest. He slumped over, and Oliver instinctively acted quickly, ducking and pulling Quentin down to behind the desk with him. Crouched behind the desk, no more shots were fired, but Oliver dared not take a peek to see where a shooter was potentially stationed lest he himself catch a bullet.

The bullets that hit Quentin went clean through. Blood was still spurting out of the wounds, and Oliver immediately took off his coat and pressed it down on Quentin’s chest. The door opened, but Oliver quickly screamed for them not to enter. If the sniper was lying in wait, they could be his next victim. A head peaked through the slightly open door and it was Jack Major, with the door being open just enough for Oliver to recognise the look of shock on his face.

“He’s been shot. Call 911!” screamed Oliver.

Whoever was behind this had just made things a whole lot more personal…

* * *

“How is he doing?” asked Oliver as he sprung to his feet. Dr Schwartz had just left Quentin’s ward at Starling General. It had been over a couple of hours since he had been shot, and judging by the look on Dr Schwartz’s face, she had good news.

“He’s stabilised. The bullets missed his aorta by centimeters. He’s lucky to be alive,” replied Dr Schwartz.

“He’s going to make a full recovery, right?” asked Oliver.

“If no complications arise, then yes.”

“Complications?”

“Well, Mayor Lance is 63 years old, with a history of heart problems. We’re going to keep him here for the next few days just to make sure he makes a steady recovery.”

Oliver thanked Dr Schwartz before entering the ward. The two police officers stationed outside the door didn’t bat an eye as Oliver entered. Quentin’s pale face turned towards Oliver. His bed was positioned to the left of the room, away from the windows, and the curtains were closed as well, two precautionary measures taken given the circumstances which led to Quentin ending up here in the first place.

“How are you feeling?” asked Oliver.

“Like crap,” replied Quentin bluntly. “Let me guess. 7.62 caliber rounds?” asked Quentin.

“That appears to be the case,” replied Oliver. After a few seconds of silence, Quentin finally spoke up.

“Turns out you’re right. Someone trying to take me out definitely means there’s something bigger at play here,” said Quentin, “I know we don’t know anything about ‘em, but tonight just proved how dangerous these guys are. The next step of their plan was to take me out, and that means whatever else they’re planning must be big and we have to stop them… you know what that means right?”

The undertone of Quentin’s question was not missed by Oliver, who sighed deeply before replying. “Quentin… I don’t know if I’m that person anymore.”

“I know, I’m sorry. You don’t even have to hood up again or anything. Just keep looking into things, will ya?” requested Quentin, “I have a feeling an outside perspective is going to be needed.”

“What does that mean?” asked Oliver, picking up on the spite in Quentin’s voice.

“When Diaz escaped, we were trying to keep it under wraps, but somehow the news got out. I figured that wasn’t too big of a deal, but Morgan, the detective, told me that Diaz’s men were fully prepared for the ACU. Like they knew they were coming.”

“You think there may be moles in the SCPD or your administration?”

“There might be. Just make sure it’s one of the things you look into.”

“I will. Get some rest. Don’t strain yourself.”

“I’ll try my best,” said Quentin, with a laboured smile.

Oliver left his bedside, and immediately upon exiting the ward ran into Diggle.

“Oliver. How is he?” asked Diggle immediately.

“He’s stable,” replied Oliver succinctly.

“Sorry, I would’ve come earlier but I was tangled up at ARGUS. Only caught the news just now.”

“Speaking of ARGUS,” said Oliver, as he moved away from the police officers with Diggle, “We need ARGUS agents outside his door.”

“Yeah, sure, of course.”

“No, not just like that. Quentin suspects that whoever is behind this may have people inside the police. We can’t trust anybody unless we’re sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, Diggle. Just taking precautions for now.” As Oliver began to walk away, Diggle immediately recognised the vigour in Oliver’s step.

“Where are you heading now?” he asked.

“Just going to check up on something,” replied Oliver, as he quickly shot Cisco a text before hastily heading for the exit.

* * *

The grimey crunches of rotten wood and shattered glass under each of Oliver’s steps were extravagantly audible as Oliver entered the former building from where he ran his initial mayoral campaign. The place hadn’t changed much in the past 7 years, apart from its abandonment causing it to decay further. The full moonlight provided just enough illumination for Oliver to make out the cobwebs littering every corner and the remains of what a few years ago would have been a desk. He pressed the button situated under a railing on the wall, and waited patiently for the secret elevator doors to open. Nothing… He pressed the button again to no avail. Cisco arrived with a briefcase as Oliver pressed the button again, with a breach opening up next to him and Cisco stepping through.

“Hey. I heard the news, so I figured it was urgent,” said Cisco immediately. “Why aren’t you down there already?”

“Elevator is not working,” replied Oliver.

“You try the alternate entrance?” asked Cisco.

“Was about to, but then you arrived. Can you breach us down?”

“Sure thing,” replied Cisco, putting on his reverb glasses back on and opening a breach in front of him and Oliver. As they stepped through, they wondered for a second if they were in the wrong place, but it quickly made sense to them that the place was pitch-black. Oliver pulled out his phone and activated the flashlight. They were on the main platform in the center of The Bunker. He moved back towards the elevator where the main power switch was stationed and pushed it up. No change.

“Well, that means the main power is out,” said Cisco.

“Don’t worry. We used to keep chem lights in case something like this happened,” said Oliver, as he moved towards the drawers to his right where the chem lights were stored. He pulled them out, tossing a few to Cisco before turning on the ones in his hand. Immediately, The Bunker was lit up with a purple hue, and the state that it was in was made clear. Vines and weeds growing everywhere and the steel structures had begun to form rust.

“This place has seen better days,” remarked Cisco.

“What, did you expect something different?” asked Oliver.

“I was at least hoping for something different.”

“Can you get this place to work?” asked Oliver bluntly.

“Sure, I’ll take a look,” replied Cisco, as he left the platform to check the main power board.

Oliver moved to take a seat at the table at the far end of The Bunker. He tested the chair first, making sure it wouldn’t collapse under his weight before sitting on it. As soon as he sat down and took a deep breath, he scorned himself for being back in this place. In the past seven years, apart from the Earth-X invasion, he hadn’t even entertained the thought of returning to The Bunker. His gaze shifted towards where the casings of the suits formerly would have been. Following the incident, Oliver removed the suits from the display and packed them away.

He felt the very guilt which he had managed to suppress over the past seven years start to return, and he contemplated getting up and leaving immediately, but he quickly reminded himself that such wouldn’t be possible without a breach from Cisco. He had dwelled so deeply in thought that he hadn’t realised that Cisco had concluded his inspection.

“Can’t get it to work?” asked Oliver.

“Right now, definitely not. I went to go check the rest of the place and it’s bad. Really bad. Basically, all of the circuits in this place are completely blown. Literally destroyed. How the hell did that happen? This place is supposed to be off-the-grid,” asked Cisco.

“Helix set off an EMP in this area about four years ago. That may have something to do with it.”

“Right. Well, the backup power is somehow fried too. This place is dead.”

“How long would it take you to fix it?” asked Oliver, hoping for a positive answer.

“Cleaning up the place won’t take long, but getting everything back up and running? I don’t know, probably a month at the least. We’d practically have to rewire every circuit in this place. Is that a problem?”

“It might be… It’s okay. I think have another place I can work out of,” said Oliver. “I’ll give you the location as well as an inventory of what I’ll need.”

“Inventory?” said Cisco, wide-eyed.

“Yes.”

“So this means you’re back in business?” asked Cisco with child-like enthusiasm.

“Probably,” replied Oliver.

“Well, I guess that means I should give you this,” he replied, as he placed his briefcase on the table and opened it. Oliver had assumed it was a tool kit which Cisco had brought along, but as soon as he saw what was inside, he hadn’t ever been happier to be wrong.

Cisco handled the brand new Green Arrow suit with care, evidently as proud of his new design as anyone could possibly be. Oliver couldn’t hide his approval as soon as he saw it, gazing upon the suit with admiration. The suit was a darker shade of green than his previous suit, and the cloth hood reminded him of Shado’s, the one sowed on to his very first suit. Cisco handed it to him, and Oliver inspected it further as he took it in his hands while Cisco explained its new features to him.

“I designed this a while ago in case you ever made a comeback, and I’ve made a lot of improvements. It’s lighter, there’s more space to carry gear, and it’s laced with cutting-edge body armour. Silicone carbide discs woven in between the fabric. Zero penetration from low to medium caliber rounds, but it’ll still hurt like a bitch if you get shot, obviously. What do you think?” asked Cisco, seeking approval like a child who had just drawn his first picture for his mother.

“I like it,” replied Oliver. That was as good as an approval you’d get from Oliver Queen, so Cisco gave himself a mental pat on the back before moving on to the next item in the briefcase.

“I also got you this. Courtesy of our friends from Earth-38,” said Cisco, as he handed Oliver what seemed to be a small handheld device. Oliver immediately knew what it was, jolting his hand forward and causing the device to unfold into a black recurve bow.

“Promethium-lined bow. Promethium is an alien metal. Way stronger than steel. This bow will stand up to a lot of damage whilst being able to dish it out,” explained Cisco.

“I know. Stronger than Nth metal too,” replied Oliver. This actually wasn’t the first time Oliver had wielded a Promethium bow. This bow was an improvement over the last one he had used. “Thank you Cisco,” said Oliver.

“No worries, man.”

Oliver realised it was time to leave, and placed the suit and bow back in the briefcase. “Alright, let’s get out of here.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver sets up his new lair with help from Cisco and Barry.

As Oliver leaned on a rusted metal desk, waiting patiently for Barry and Cisco to arrive, he still found himself in total disbelief over where he was. He had scouted the place earlier to make sure it was still suitable for his operations, and surprisingly, it was. All the place needed was a clean-up, and then it would be good to go.

The conduit basement of the defunct Verdant and before that, Queen Industrial Inc. factory, appeared starkly reminiscent in condition to when Oliver first set up his base of operations here. The place been abandoned in the wake of its discovery by the police 9 years ago, so the entire area was dirty and dusty. Majority of the former equipment that used to be here was either inoperative or broken down and scattered across the floor. The police had ravaged the place, so it was expected that the computers, servers and suit mannequins were strewn all over. There were few other places in Star City which Oliver could use to set up a new base of operations, and none of them were as practically suited as his first lair. It was poetic in a way, that as he continues his crusade, he returns to the very place where it began. This time, however, there would be nobody else. Just like how it was supposed to be. Just Oliver, and the mission.

He would ask for help if needed, but nobody would be drawn into the thick of it. Nobody could. Diggle is now a senior ARGUS officer and has two young children who he has to be there for, while Roy is about to become a father. Team Flash would stay preoccupied with Central City, and Supergirl has her own whole universe to take care of. Other than that, there wasn’t even anybody left to consider. They were all gone.

His thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the breach in front of him. Cisco stepped through holding a small storage box, and before he could say anything, a streak of red lightning zipped past him several times, with each time gear bags, storage boxes and containers piling up next to him.

“Show-off,” remarked Cisco, much to Oliver’s amusement. Barry’s blitz caused much of the dust on the floor to puff up, causing Cisco to stumble back and attempt to wade the dirt away from his face. Eventually, the red streak came to a stop, and Barry and Cisco walked over to Oliver to greet him.

“We got all the stuff you asked for,” said Barry enthusiastically.

“Thank you,” said Oliver politely. “Do you mind helping me set it all up?”

“No, not at all,” replied Barry.

Before anything could be set up, Oliver first tasked Barry with cleaning the place. That took less than a minute with Barry’s superspeed. With that out of the way, the process began. 12 years ago, it had taken Oliver about three full days before the lair was up and running. Now, with a couple of helping metahuman hands, it didn’t take them longer than a few hours for the place to be set up. They laid the place out practically the same as it used to be. Once they were finished with the task, Oliver happily obliged to sit and have a beer with Barry and Cisco. Cisco sat at the computers, while Oliver and Barry leaned against desks opposite each other.

“So, you’re really back in the game?” asked Barry, receiving a nod from Oliver in reply. “I’m not going to lie, it is a little weird that you decided to come back to this place.”

“I think it’s cool. Talk about a throwback,” interjected Cisco as he took a sip of his beer.

“It’s not a throwback. It’s just the place that made the most sense since The Bunker is busted,” replied Oliver.

“I suppose. So, who are the big bads?” asked Cisco. “They must be pretty important if they’re bringing you out of retirement.”

“I don’t know yet, but that’s the point of this. I’m going to find out, and then I’m going to stop them,” replied Oliver.

“You sure you’re up for this?” asked Barry concernedly.

“I wouldn’t be here right now if I wasn’t. Why the concern?” asked Oliver.

“Just. You’re my friend, and I want to be sure that you know what you’re doing,” replied Barry. “You have to be prepared for what’s going to happen when you jump back into this world.”

“I know. No need to get all wise on me. Remember, I’m the one that’s the all-knowing mentor,” joked Oliver.

“Oh, no, not anymore,” replied Barry, as he took a sip of his beer. “Technically, I’ve been a hero longer than you now, so…”

“What?” replied Oliver sternly.

“I’ve been The Flash for nine years. You were only the Green Arrow for five years,” said Barry, as he shrugged his shoulders.

“He’s not wrong,” remarked Cisco.

“Barry, the five years I was away and five years as the Green Arrow,” replied Oliver, being met with reserved looks from Barry and Cisco, “You have to count those first five years.”

“You can’t count the first year,” replied Barry.

“Why not?”

“You were probably still very playboy-ish and weren’t being a ‘hero’ yet,” explained Barry. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” conceded Oliver. “That still means we’re tied. 9 and 9.”

“Alright, fair enough,” replied Barry, with Cisco nodding his head too. The three men each shared a laugh before taking more sips of their beers. Eventually, their time together had to come to an end. Barry and Cisco returned to Central City, while Oliver left his new lair to go visit Quentin in Starling General.

* * *

Oliver immediately recognised the two ARGUS agents inconspicuously sitting in the hallway which led to Quentin’s ward. They each acknowledged Oliver’s presence with a nod, one which Oliver returned to them. As he made his way towards the door to Quentin’s ward, Oliver was surprised to see the two police officers attempt to stop Oliver from entering.

“Sorry, Mr Queen, but we can’t let you in, sir,” said one of the officers.

“Excuse me?” retorted Oliver.

“Captain Smith is speaking to the mayor, sir. He gave us strict instructions not to let anyone else in,” said the other officer. Wood, his name-tag read.

“Officer Wood, I can assure you that there is nothing that they are talking about which either of them would not be comfortable with me hearing,” replied Oliver calmly.

“Mr Queen, I can’t disobey direct orders.”

“Wood, you are well aware that Mayor Lance and I have known each other for nearly 30 years?” Blake replied with a nod. “Then you are aware that he is like a father to me, and that he is eventually going to tell me whatever he is talking to Captain Smith about. So please, just let me through.”

Following a moment of consideration, Officer Blake conceded to Oliver’s request, and let him enter. Immediately, both Quentin and Captain Smith’s heads whipped towards him, but they relaxed when they saw it was Oliver.

“Mr Queen,” said Captain Smith. “I thought I gave strict instructions to my men not to let anyone in.”

“Unfortunately, I’m more persuasive than you,” replied Oliver, as he walked over and shook the captain’s hand. Captain Matthew Smith was the exact opposite of a stereotypical policeman. The man looked as if he had never eaten a donut in his life. He was lean and tall, roughly the same height as Oliver, and possessed slightly curly medium-length brown hair. The man grew up in Texas, possessing a Southern drawl in his speech, but had spent the latter half of his life in Star City and had now been an SCPD Captain for close to 5 years.

“Oliver. Smith and I were talking about a transport plan to get me out of here,” said Quentin.

“No offence, Quentin, but I don’t think we should discuss the details of such in the presence of Mr Queen,” said Smith, slightly irking Oliver. On a personal level outside of their administrative affiliation, he and Smith never really developed a great relationship. He disagreed with Smith’s firm anti-vigilante stance and they also possessed a notable personality clash. It appeared to be nothing personal, although Oliver sometimes wondered if that wasn’t the case.

On the job, Smith was exceptionally stoic and stubborn, so much so that even Oliver, a man infamous for being those two very things, couldn’t fathom how Smith lived like that day in and day out. The less than a handful of times when Smith was away from work and loosened up was when Oliver enjoyed his company, as he displayed a McConaughey-esque laid-back, friendly demeanour. But, by the next time that Oliver saw him, he was always back to his headstrong, austere self.

However, those traits weren’t always detrimental considering the job that he had been tasked with. Addressing many of the problems plaguing the SCPD, such as corruption, inadequate training and various other issues required a man with his stubbornness and iron-will. In that regard, Oliver could not complain at all, as Smith had tremendously helped alleviate these issues and thus managed to restore the general public’s faith in the police force.

“Come on, Smith. I know you’re just trying to do your job but Oliver is like a son to me. In fact, I’ll feel better if Oliver knows about this,” replied Quentin, as he shot a nod towards Oliver.

After a moment of consideration, Smith decided to comply with Quentin’s request. “Sure. Given how the perp is still out there, we think it’s best that once Mayor Lance is discharged, he be escorted back to his residence by a SWAT team. Discreetly,” explained Smith.

“What’s so secretive about that?” asked Oliver.

“The fact that it’s happening. We’re going to do it at a random time and the vehicles transporting him will be unmarked so as to not draw attention to ourselves. We’re taking all the precautions we can to ensure Mayor Lance’s safety.”

“Any leads on the shooter?” asked Oliver, curious to see Smith’s reaction.

“We’re working on it,” replied Smith inexplicitly, “He’s a professional, we know that for sure. He didn’t leave much behind for us to look into. That’ll be all from me.”

“Thanks, Smith. I appreciate it,” said Quentin, as he stuck out a hand for him to shake.

“Always a pleasure, Quentin,” he replied, as he shook Quentin’s hand before turning to Oliver. “Queen.”

Smith didn’t shake Oliver’s hand, instead choosing to just shoot him a slight nod before waltzing past him towards the exit. As soon as he was gone, Oliver couldn’t stop himself from throwing an insult his way.

“Prick,” he said to himself, as he grabbed a chair to place next to Quentin’s bed.

“He’s a fine man and great Captain though,” chimed in Quentin.

“Never said he wasn’t,” replied Oliver, as he sat down on his chair. “How are you?”

“Feeling better. I haven’t been shot in a while, so just getting used to this type of pain again.”

“What do you think?”

“Of the transport plan? I think it’ll work. I do want you in on it though,” said Quentin.

“The route?” asked Oliver.

“Smith is being scarce with the details. I’ll see if I can get him to budge, then I’ll pass it on to you.”

“Just keep this in case he doesn’t,” said Oliver, as he passed a small circular chip to Quentin. He knew what it was, a tracking device.

“Sure.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Green Arrow finally makes a formidable return, as Oliver dons the hood for the first time in nearly 7 years.

The text from Quentin came early in the afternoon the next day – “ _11 PM tonight.”_ The succinct message confirmed the time that the transport was scheduled for, and the following message was a picture of the transport route. Oliver studied it for several minutes. The path they were taking was fairly safe. The route only temporarily brushed the outskirts of The Glades, and the areas which they were passing through appeared to not be the opportune places for a vehicle ambush. With Quentin in a bulletproof truck too, all the pieces of the puzzle seemed to indicate that it was going to be smooth sailing.

Oliver glanced at this watch. 21:32. Technically, there was still an hour and a half before the transport was set to happen, but Oliver had a feeling that things weren’t going to go according to the plan. Knowing Smith, he likely gave Quentin an incorrect time as a precaution, with the actual transport going to take place either earlier or later than expected and Oliver had a gut feeling it would happen earlier.

He hadn’t pondered on Barry’s words previously, but he was doing so now. A storm is going to manifest from this. Soon, the whole world will be talking about the return of the Green Arrow, or maybe rather, the appearance of a new one. The fact that Matthew Smith was the current SCPD Captain didn’t exactly make matters easier for Oliver either. With the absence of vigilantes in Star City, his hard stance on vigilantism hadn’t been a problem, but it was going to be now.

* * *

Having just gingerly changed into casual attire, Quentin Lance was startled by the burst through the door to his ward. He whipped around, momentarily fearing a hitman, but was still equally surprised to see the two cops hastily making their way toward him.

“Mr Mayor, it’s time,” said the one officer. Quentin glanced at his watch. It was only 21:55.

“No, you must be mistaken. Captain Smith told me we were moving at 23:00.”

“Change of plans, Mr Mayor. Let’s go.” Quentin couldn’t disguise his groan as he grabbed his phone and followed the officers out. He should have known Smith was going to pull something like this. Sometimes, that man was a bit too thorough for his own good. The tracker was in the zipped pocket of his leather jacket, so Oliver was going to pick up that he was on the move. Still though, he sent him a quick message to let him know the transport was moving early, and he hoped to God that it was going to be smooth sailing.

* * *

_‘Transport’s moving early. Leaving now.’_

Oliver’s phone buzzed and he glanced at the message. Turns out he was right. He opened the tracking software, and immediately the blue dot indicating Quentin’s location was beginning to move. On another monitor, he opened up the live CCTV feed of the rear exit of Starling General, and he didn’t have to wait long to spot the convoy exiting the underground parking. The bulletproof van in the center, with an unmarked car each in front and behind it as escorts. There was little chatter on the team’s radio channel for now, but Oliver turned up the volume anyway. He wanted to hear every and any thing that they said.

The first time the convoy took a wrong turn, Oliver didn’t think too much of it as his CCTV feed showed that an accident had occurred on that road. He was still surprised that they had deviated from the route, but the camera feed made Oliver think that they were avoiding the traffic stemming from the accident. When the convoy didn’t attempt to get back to the original route even when the opportunities were there, Oliver began to think that either Smith had given Quentin a false route or something was up. They were taking another way, and Oliver did not like it at all. They started moving through The Glades and Oliver was becoming uneasy. He didn’t take his gaze off the CCTV camera footage once.

After a minute, Oliver relaxed his shoulders before leaning back against the chair and taking a deep breath. He was too worried about this. If someone was really trying to kill Quentin, attempting to do so while he was surrounded by a SWAT team would be the most impractical. When the radio chatter started up, Oliver looked back at the screen to see a large truck turning at the intersection in front of the convoy. The truck had not slowed down, and attempting the turn at speed caused it to flip over and block the path of the convoy.

Oliver listened intently as the SWAT team debated over the channel on what to do. It was just as they came to a conclusion that Oliver saw a flaming projectile speed towards the vehicle in front, destroying it. Someone had fired an RPG at them. Immediately, the van hit reverse, narrowly avoiding the second RPG projectile fired at it. The vehicle in the rear escort followed suit but just then did a van pull up behind them. Out stepped eight masked men, each with body armour and an assault rifle, who began emptying their mags on the vehicles.

“Shit!”

Oliver jumped out of his chair and immediately ran towards the briefcase which contained his new suit. They were only 5 blocks away from him, so he could make it there in time to save Quentin’s life. In truth, Oliver had been trying to delay having to go back out there again. He knew doing this was going to reawaken a beastly part of himself which had been asleep, and as he placed the hood over his head for the first time in seven years, the visceral surge of adrenaline made him feel as war-ready as ever.

* * *

“What the hell was th-”

The shockwave of the first blast had physically caused the entire van to shake, and Quentin’s exclamation was cut short when the van suddenly hit reverse, causing him and his four SWAT companions to slide across their benches. Quickly, their radios started chattering, as the other SWAT members relayed information and instructions to them. Quentin could barely make out what they were saying. He could only manage to mutter two short phrases once the chatter stopped.

“What’s going on? What’s happening?”

“We’re being ambushed,” replied one of them as he and another made their way towards the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” replied Quentin.

“They need us out there. Briggs and Shaw will stay here with you,” he replied, referring to the other two men in the vehicle. As soon as they were out, the door was locked once again and Quentin sat agitated as he listened to the exchange of gunfire.

“Why can’t we drive out of here?” he inquired.

“The truck is blocking our path and the engine got blown out by the RPG,” replied Briggs.

“Can this thing take a direct hit from that?”

“If it was a direct hit, you’d be dead already, sir,” replied Shaw. Luckily, the RPG shooter had been taken out, but that didn’t exactly calm Quentin’s nerves. The only thing that calmed him was the fact that he knew Oliver was watching, and that he was on his way. He couldn’t resist a smirk from forming on his face as he thought of that prospect. Boy, were these gunmen going to be in for a show tonight.

* * *

When he had heard the explosion and felt the very road which he was driving on shake, Detective Mack Morgan immediately whipped his car around and sped full throttle in the direction of where the blast had sounded like it had happened. He had worked late hours today, trying to get a breakthrough on at least one of the multiple cases that were sat on his desk. Now, a routine stop for diapers and baby powder was suddenly about to become a whole lot more interesting.

He had no idea exactly where to go, only having approximated the location of the blast, but he raced forward anyway. He responded to the SWAT team’s call for backup on his radio, being the only response within their vicinity. For whatever reason, there were few cops in this area at this time. He figured he was getting close when he saw several civilians hastily running away while gunfire became audible over the sound of his roaring engine. He raced past an intersection, only to catch a glance of the burning vehicles and men firing automatic rifles to his left. Braking hard, the groceries on his passenger seat slid forward before Morgan placed the car in reverse.

He spotted eight armed men, clearly the attackers, and the three men they were firing at taking cover behind another vehicle. The attackers were heavily armed, masked and had body armour too. He only had a 9mm and a shotgun in his trunk. He couldn’t attempt to run them over. They’d spot him and he’d be shot in the process. He also couldn’t let them murder the remaining SWAT officers and whoever they were transporting. Regrettably, he grabbed two mags from his cubby and leapt out the car. He quickly retrieved his shotgun from the trunk and several slugs before quickly taking cover behind his car.

The attackers still hadn’t noted his presence, so he tried his best to relax and take aim with his pistol. His first few shots counted, as the body of one man dropped after he fired at his neck. When the other attackers turned around, he quickly ducked behind his car before the return gunfire came, riddling his car with bullets. He hoped that whoever was in that van was someone important enough to have been worth his car. A momentary break in the shots, and he leapt back up and fired several shots at the two men who were reloading their magazines. One of his shots hit the arm of the man on the left, causing him to drop his weapon before the other one continued with the fire.

They were getting closer, so he speedily loaded several slugs in his shotgun before awaiting an opportunity to return fire. The gunmen stopped firing for a second, and just as he sprung up to take shots, a bullet burrowed itself into his left shoulder. He immediately dropped from the impact. Under his car, he saw the now four pairs of legs running in his direction, while the other three were fixating themselves with the van.

Just when Mack Morgan thought all hope was lost, a faint electric squeal caused him to glance to his left, and through his blurry vision, he made out the hooded figure speeding towards him on a motorbike.

* * *

Oliver couldn’t make out the face of the injured police officer, but that didn’t matter. As he neared closer, he reached to his thigh holster and pulled out his folded bow. He jolted his hand forward, causing the bow to unravel. He narrowed his vision, and very vaguely saw the shadows heading towards the injured officer. He wasn’t going to let them finish the job. As he neared the officer, he spun the bike towards his left, and caught a glimpse of the four armed men.

He was as focused as ever as he drew an explosive arrow and aimed it at the center of the four men. It all occurred in slow motion to Oliver, as he watched the arrow fly in the air before combusting and send the four men flying back. He quickly brought his hands back to the handle and spun the bike back around, manoeuvring around the officer’s vehicle and towards the van. He zipped past the four bodies, catching the attention of the three other armed men who were preoccupied with the van. Oliver reached for an explosive arrow, but in a split second spotted the C4 charges placed on the van. He reached for a flashbang arrow instead and fired it, disorientating the attackers.

He braked hard and hopped off his bike, quickly drawing two normal arrows and firing each at the unarmoured throats of two attackers. He would have preferred not to kill, but right now he didn’t have a choice. The remaining attacker managed to draw his pistol and fire at Oliver just as Oliver fired his third arrow. Oliver was knocked back and dropped to a knee as he felt a powerful thud reverberate through the entire right side of his abdomen. He glanced down at the bullet, seeing it compressed and stuck against his suit. Zero penetration, as Cisco had promised. Still hurt like a bitch though, as Cisco had promised.

The arrow had pierced right through the man’s arm and stuck itself right to the side of the van. The sound of the attacker’s screams were cut short when Oliver hastily ran towards him and knocked him out with a powerful swing of his bow. Was that all of them? As the thought of more attackers occurred in Oliver’s mind, the roaring engine of a car became audible as Oliver whipped around just in time to leap out of the way of the vehicle trying to run him over.

The vehicle quickly halted, and out stepped four more assailants. They too were armed, but Oliver rushed them immediately, not giving them a chance to use their firearms. He grabbed the head of the first one getting out of the car and smashed it into the door, before kneeing the second one in the head. The two on the other side of the vehicle got out and raised their weapons towards Oliver, but he reacted swiftly and fired an arrow to knock the pistol out of one’s hand. Another powerful thud hit Oliver in the chest, and he dropped down before rising and throwing a flechette at the man’s hand to prevent him from firing any more shots.

Oliver fought through the pain, and leapt over the vehicle. He kicked the one man down as he slid across the vehicle, and upon landing immediately ducked under the other’s punch and whacked him across the face with his bow. The other man quickly rose to his feet, and Oliver dipped to avoid a kick from him. The other attacker recovered too, and a fistfight ensued. Oliver moved backwards, ducking and blocking many of the men’s strikes while returning with his own whenever he could. These men were skilled, very well-trained, but Oliver’s experience allowed him to gain an upper hand. He was also blessed with a Promethium bow, with the alien-metal reinforcement meaning it dealt much more damage on impact than any of his previous bows.

The man to Oliver’s right threw a wild punch, but Oliver ducked under and swung his bow directly into his gut before whipping around and whipping his bow directly into the head of the other man, separating him from his consciousness. With only one man left, Oliver drew an arrow and sent it through the man’s left shoulder. The man dropped to the floor, his scream of pain being cut short with a punch that shook his temple. He felt the lapel of his jacket being grabbed and he was pulled up to face the man kneeling over him.

“Who do you work for?” screamed Oliver. The man didn’t reply, prompting Oliver to grab the arrow in his shoulder and twist it. “Tell me!” The man still remained silent, refusing to give up anything despite his agony. Once Oliver knew he wouldn’t talk, he threw a final punch which knocked the man out. He quickly searched the man’s pockets and his luck struck out as he managed to find a phone. The screen was cracked, and it didn’t boot up when Oliver pressed any buttons, but it could still be useful, so he placed it in his pocket. Just as Oliver thought he could take a breath, there was more movement to his left, causing him to jump to his feet.

He reached back for an arrow, but when he saw Detective Mack Morgan aiming his pistol at him, he slowly brought his hand back down to his side. Morgan’s left arm hung limp as he and Oliver stared each other down, both men unsure of what move to make next. After a staredown of several seconds which felt like minutes, the young detective eventually decided to lower his pistol, and Oliver breathed a sigh of relief. Police sirens began to ring out in the nearby area, prompting Oliver to move back to his bike. As Oliver started his bike, he looked back at Morgan once more, who thanked him with a small nod before Oliver sped back to the lair.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver is paid a visit by Diggle, while the man in the subway tunnel reacts to the Green Arrow's return.

It had been two hours since Oliver had managed to foil the attack on Quentin Lance, and as he had expected, news outlets were buzzing and gnawing thoroughly at the bone which had been thrown at them. Oliver read through the multiple news headlines while he iced the bruises from where the bullets had hit him. _‘Mayor Lance saved by Green Arrow’, ‘Vigilante foils plot to kill Mayor’_ and Oliver’s personal favourite, _‘The Return of The Emerald Archer’._

Quentin had been taken back to Starling General just for a check-up, and Oliver was sure that they weren’t thinking of another transport plan immediately. He’d stay at the hospital now with armed protection, that he was sure of. The only surviving members of the SWAT Team were the two men that remained with Quentin in the van. Detective Mack Morgan had survived and was receiving treatment for the gunshot wound on his shoulder. He was going to make a full recovery, something which Oliver was glad to hear.

Regarding the mercenaries, Oliver had killed the first six, but he had only incapacitated the remaining five, and they had been taken into police custody. He doubted they’d talk to the police and even if they did, he currently didn’t have any way to gather that intel. Years prior, he used to have Quentin relay him information, but now, he’d have to find someone else. The phone could be a great help in getting some information, but Oliver hadn’t had any success with getting it to work yet.

He’d rewatched the entire footage of the attack, and something seemed strange to him. When Mack Morgan was shot, none of the men in front of him had fired. They were all reloading their weapons while the other men were preoccupied with the van. That meant that there had to have been another shooter. A sniper, perhaps even the same sniper that tried to kill Quentin, but then the question arose of why he hadn’t fired at Oliver.

When the door to the lair opened, Oliver was not startled or alarmed. He had seen the person enter the building earlier through surveillance cameras, and was in all honesty expecting the visit to come sooner or later.

“My oh my… Déjà vu, huh?” the deep voice called out as he trod down the stairs, inspecting the layout of the lair.

“How’d you figure I was here?” asked Oliver, as he spun around in his chair to face John Diggle.

“I checked the Bunker as soon as I saw the news. You weren’t there, so then I called Barry to see if he knew where you were, and he told me to come here,” replied Diggle, as he surveyed the place around him. “So… the return of the Emerald Archer? A bit extravagant, don’t you think?”

“I like it,” replied Oliver with a sly smile.

“You going to tell me how long you’ve been planning this?” asked Diggle.

“Not long. To be honest, I didn’t want to do this, but I have to.”

“Why is that?”

“I’ve had some recent suspicions that there’s a plot to elevate crime and invoke chaos in Star City. My suspicions were confirmed tonight.”

“Are you sure about that? Have any evidence?”

“Only circumstantial, but I can feel it, Diggle. These guys weren’t gangsters, they were mercenaries. Trained professionals who were there to finish the job that the sniper started. Whoever hired them or whoever they work for wanted Lance dead.”

“And you’re sure that this is the way to stop them?” The wording was different, but Diggle was asking the same question that Barry had earlier.

“Yes,” replied Oliver, bluntly. “Hasn’t tonight proved that?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I’m just not sure that you know what you’re getting yourself into. You’ve been away from this for seven years, you can’t just jump back in and think things are going to be like how they used to. From the looks of things, it also looks like you plan on doing this without a team.”

“No team, Diggle. You know why,” replied Oliver with a blank stare which Diggle knew all too well. “And besides, there’s nobody else that can help anyway. Roy is about to become a father, and you can’t go out in the field anymore.”

“You still need someone to watch your back in some form, Oliver.”

“I know, and I’m looking right at that someone.”

“Excuse me? Maybe I haven’t made myself clear, but I do not want you doing this, Oliver, nor do I want to be a part of it.”

“John, there’s something larger at play here and I know it. It’s fine if you’re not convinced right now. I don’t the evidence yet, but acquiring it is going to be a lot easier with your help. You just need to be my backup, and my advisor.” Oliver threw the ice pack away and rose to his feet, walking to within arm’s reach of Diggle. “What do you say, Dig? Just you and me, like old times…” said Oliver, as he stretched out a hand.

John Diggle hesitated to accept Oliver’s offer. He was not keen on seeing his best friend dive back into the pool of darkness which had taken him years to claw out of. More importantly than that, he didn’t want to see him die in the field. He had feared Oliver would do something drastic in response to the changes in his life, but this was not one of the things which he had envisioned. He saw the determination in Oliver’s eyes. He was sure of this, and even though Diggle wasn’t, he knew that Oliver would do it with or without him. That meant that as a friend, he only had one option, as he proceeded to shake Oliver’s hand.

“I’ll help on one condition,” said Diggle.

“Name it.”

“You have two weeks to prove to me that there’s something going on. If you don’t, you forget about all of this. You shut this place down and never come back here again.” It was a heavy demand, but not one that Oliver thought was unreasonable.

“Fair enough.”

“So when do we start?”

Oliver smirked before he gave his reply. “We just did.”

* * *

_“Mama… Mama!”_

_“Վազիր, Alex! Վազեք!”_

_Her screams for her son to run away weren’t heeded. He was frozen in place, paralysed as he watched his mother being shoved on to the bed by the enemy soldier. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he knelt on the floor next to his father’s lifeless body. He didn’t know what to do… until he caught a glimpse of the large knife in his father’s hands. It was then that he realised what he had to do, and it was something that no child should ever have to._

* * *

The man in the subway tunnel was snapped out of his distant recollection by the footsteps of of his most trusted marksman and second-in-command approaching him from behind. He was seated in front of a large screen, tentatively watching Jack Major’s press release and the news reports regarding the attack on Mayor Lance. More importantly, he paid full attention to their words about the Green Arrow’s return, and how they debated whether this was a new individual or the same man from years prior.

The marksman spoke up. “This screws with the plans.”

“Don’t worry. There are other ways we can ensure that Quentin Lance is no longer in office.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about him,” his second-in-command explained, as he pointed to the TV where a blurry image of the Green Arrow was being displayed. “I had a clear shot. Why did you tell me to stand down?”

“Your rounds wouldn’t have penetrated his suit,” he replied, half-jokingly.

“Bullshit. It would have been better to take him out while we had the chance.”

“Patience, my dear friend. Patience...”

“Why do you sound like you have a plan for him?”

“Because now, I do. His time will come if he chooses to continue on this path, but for now, let’s just enjoy the theatrics, shall we?”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver enlists the help of Detective Mack Morgan to look deeper into the recent events in the city.

At 9:30 am, Oliver was forced awake by the sound of someone furiously knocking on his door. Normally, a 9:30 start to the day wouldn’t be too bad at all for him, but with his late night previously, he’d hoped to be able to sleep in for a little longer. He hadn’t had any luck with the phone, which meant that he was going to have to ask for help from Mia again. As he quickly changed into a shirt and sweatpants and left his room, the female voice on the other side screaming his name became clearer. He knew exactly who it was, and was met with her infuriated face as he opened the door.

“We need to talk,” said Thea, as Oliver made way for her to enter. Roy had come too, and he followed Thea into the apartment.

“I’m about to make breakfast. You guys want anything?” asked Oliver casually, infuriating Thea even further.

“Ollie, what the hell is going on?” she asked. Oliver raised his hands in protest, but Roy quickly chimed in too.

“Don’t even bother telling us that it’s someone else. We know it’s you,” he said.

“What the hell are you doing?” Thea scorned him.

“Quentin was about to be killed. I had to do something,” replied Oliver meekly.

“Yeah, and you somehow magically got your hands on a bow and suit within seconds? Cut the bullshit, Ollie. Why are you doing this?”

“I’m sure you must have a good reason,” said Roy objectively. Roy was far less angry at Oliver, and appeared to be trying to play the middle-man here. Oliver wouldn’t advise him to go against his wife, but he appreciated the minimal support nonetheless.

“Something is going on in the city. I need to get to the bottom of it,” replied Oliver succinctly.

“You don’t have to hood up for that,” replied Thea, “Going out there again, you can get hurt or…”

Oliver interrupted her before her thought process continued. “Thea, nothing is going to happen to me. I promise,” said Oliver adamantly, “Hooding up is just temporary. Once I get to the bottom of it all, I will hang it up again, and I will gladly spend the rest of my life in an office at Queen Industries.”

“What is ‘it all’, exactly?” asked Roy.

“I don’t even know yet. The chances are that I’m blowing it all out of proportion, and when I find that out, I will hand it over to the SCPD or ARGUS and then forget about it. That is the most likely scenario.” He would have preferred not to lie, but he had to ease the nerves of his sister. “Don’t stress about me, Thea. Please. Stress is bad for the baby,” he said with a grin, prompting a small smile out of her.

“I’m just trying to look out for you, Ollie,” she said concernedly.

“Thank you, and I appreciate it. I’m not doing this alone, either. Dig and Barry have my back, and I do have some other new friends who are helping me. Everything is going to be fine. Now, do you want some breakfast or not?”

“No, we ate already. I’m late for the office anyway, we should get going.”

As Thea wheeled herself out, Roy momentarily hung back to quickly speak with Oliver.

“You know I’m here if you need any help right?” he said softly, but Oliver quickly shut him down.

“No, Roy, you have a kid on the way. I don’t want you out there risking your life.”

“Alright. I just hope those new friends that you spoke about know what they’re doing,” he said, before leaving too. His words forced Oliver to think. Not about the capabilities of his ‘friends’, but the fact that he didn’t really have any. A necessary lie to get them off his case, but he did still need more allies. Perhaps it was time to get some…

* * *

Detective Mack Morgan shuffled uncomfortably in his bed for the umpteenth time as he tried to find a comfortable position to sleep. He usually preferred to lie on his left side but couldn’t right now. The pain of the bullet wound on his left shoulder would become unbearable. Worse for him, he found it impossible to sleep lying straight on his back, and he couldn’t clear his mind and stop it from replaying the events of the previous night. He grabbed his watch from his bedside and checked the time. 00:17. He wasn’t falling asleep anytime soon, so he rose carefully so as not to wake the body next to him.

His fiance, Elizabeth. Lizzy, as he called her. He found it hard to wrap his head around the fact that they’d known each other for almost 10 years now. They had met in their final years of college and began dating shortly after they’d first met. Nearly a decade later and they remarkably haven’t looked back since. During his initial first few years as a patrol officer, she always worried deeply about him. At the time, violent crime was rife in Star City and Morgan had almost lost his life on numerous occasions. Recently, however, she worried less. The city had become safer and as a detective, he was less prone to being shot at on a daily basis. Well, until now.

Morgan exited quietly before entering the other bedroom in their small townhouse. The bed was unoccupied, but the crib that stood next to it wasn’t. Their 11-month-old son lay soundly asleep in his cot. Dustin, they’d named him. Apart from the events of the attack, the only other things on his mind were thoughts of Lizzy and Dustin. Previously, every time he’d been shot or hurt in the line of duty, he soldiered on without dwelling too much on it. It was part of the job, and he knew he was willing to give his life to save others but all of that had changed now. This was the first time he had had a brush with death since Dustin had been born, and he couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if he had died out there. Not only the tragedy of Dustin growing up without his father, but also the thought of leaving Lizzy to raise him by herself. He couldn’t do that to her.

He left the room and headed to the kitchen. He poured himself a large glass of water on the kitchen counter before sipping on it, but mid-way through the drink, he paused. He heard the faint thuds of footsteps behind him, and he immediately cursed himself for leaving his firearm in his bedroom. With his heart beating tremendously, he grabbed a knife as he spun around, tensing his body as he locked his eyes on the figure shrouded in the darkness of his unlit living room.

As quickly as he had tensed, he relaxed, taking a deep breath before placing the knife on the kitchen table as the hooded man stepped further into the light.

“You could have knocked,” said Morgan, still a bit on edge.

“How’s the shoulder?” asked the Green Arrow.

“It hurts, but I’ll be fine.”

“Thank you for letting me go,” he said, gratefully.

“Thank you for saving my life,” replied Morgan, equally grateful. “Why the visit?”

“Last night wasn’t a once-off event. The people who wanted Mayor Lance dead are the same people behind everything else that’s been going on in the city. The drugs, the shootings, the assassinations… These events are all linked, each being orchestrated by an entity that is unknown as of right now. Everything I’ve discovered that’s led me to that conclusion is on here,” he finished as he handed a USB device to Morgan.

“Why are you giving me this?”

“Because I need someone that I can trust in the police department to be aware of this. Captain Smith was keeping everything pretty close to the chest and information about Lance’s transport still somehow got out. There might be a leak in the police.”

“You want me to find out who it is?”

“If you can, but keep a very low profile. You’ve seen up close how dangerous these guys are. Be very careful, Detective, for your family’s sake.”

“Need anything else from me?”

“Albert Davis, CEO of Starling Port. I believe his ships are how drugs and weapons are getting into the city. I need you to look into that however you can. I’ll be in touch,” he said as he handed Morgan a phone, before turning to leave.

“Hey,” said Morgan, calling him back, “Are you the same guy, or are you someone new?” he asked, referring to the Green Arrow’s identity.

He countered with a question of his own without turning around. “Does it matter?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” replied Morgan thoughtfully.

“You’re a detective. What do you think?”

“Some of the evidence points to you being someone new, but I think you’re him. I can see it on your face. The years of experience and wear and tear, but I could be wrong. Am I?”

Mack Morgan did not receive a response from his hooded acquaintance, who left as Morgan returned to bed, hearing the same faint squeal of an electric motorcycle until it was silent once again.

* * *

“Talk go well?” asked Diggle, as Oliver trod down the stairs to the lair.

“Yep. Morgan is on board,” replied Oliver, as he took off his hood and mask. Diggle had been skeptical earlier about Oliver working with Morgan, but Oliver convinced him that the kid was trustworthy. Even if the kid firing at the mercenaries and not at Oliver wasn’t enough, a thorough background check confirmed to Oliver that they were on the same side.

“So, what’s our next move?” asked Dig.

“Diaz. I’m going to hit the streets, see if I can beat any intel out of local dealers and curb the distribution of Burnout. In the meantime, I want you to review footage from all CCTV cameras within a two-block radius of Quentin’s attack. Start from an hour before the attack to 10 minutes after.”

Diggle was almost insulted by Oliver’s request. “You serious?”

“There was a sniper. If we can find any footage of him or the vehicle he used to leave, we may be able to identify him.”

“That’s a lot of footage, which is going to take a lot of time to look through. You do know that I have a job, right?” joked Diggle.

“Consider this your overtime,” quipped Oliver to Dig’s chagrin, as he collected his mask and bow and left.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver discovers the identity of the sniper and tracks him down.

The interrogation of street dealers was fairly fruitful for Oliver. He’d managed to stop some deals and find the locations of a few stashes which he proceeded to destroy. However, none of the dealers had any idea of Ricardo Diaz’s whereabouts, and almost all of them had no clue that Diaz had a backer. They’d assumed that Diaz was sourcing the drugs himself, but Oliver knew otherwise. The drug epidemic which Oliver had feared would happen was starting to come to fruition. With the widespread usage of Burnout, addiction was already starting to set in, and that was just contributing more to the increase in violence.

Diggle’s search of the CCTV footage proved to be a dead-end too. He managed to spot a potential vehicle, but with no plates and tinted windows, they had no way of identifying the driver or sniper. They followed its route through other camera footage, but they lost it near the old abandoned Bertinelli construction yard. Oliver momentarily stopped there to search for anything, but found nothing. The second attempt to transport Quentin back to his residence had gone smoothly. The police weren’t involved this time. Diggle had managed to organise an ARGUS transport for him, with Oliver shadowing the transport as well. Quentin was now back at his apartment with 24/7 watch-over from ARGUS agents.

He was enjoying his “breakfast” at 13:24 when his phone started ringing. Not his personal cell, but his ‘business’ one. He was desperate for a breakthrough, and answered Mia’s call hastily.

 _“I got your mail,”_ she said.

“Did you manage to salvage anything from the phone?” asked Oliver.

_“Yeah, I did. It took me a while, but I got it done.”_

“So what did you find?”

_“The route for Quentin Lance’s transport and a few phone calls made to the same unregistered number.”_

“Can you get a trace location of the last call made to that number?”

_“Already ahead of you on that one. The call came from the Papp Hotel, 1700 Broadway.”_

“Broadway?” asked Oliver, seeking confirmation.

_“Yep.”_

“Alright. Thank you, Mia. Once again.”

_“You’re welcome, my green-hooded friend.”_

Mia’s words made Oliver smile as he hung up the phone.

* * *

Oliver returned to the lair early and immediately began looking through the records and guests at Papp Hotel over the past month. It took him a few hours to find the person he thought would have made the call and once he did, he was sure he had the right man. The time was 21:34, and Oliver had just finished suiting up when Diggle entered the lair.

“Where are you heading off to so early?” asked Diggle.

“My contact pulled through with the phone. Got the location of the person that they’d last called,” said Oliver, as he placed flechettes in his thigh holster.

“Where?”

“Papp Hotel. 1700 Broadway.”

“Broadway?” asked Diggle, possessing the same thought Oliver had when Mia had told him. The Bertinelli construction yard was also on Broadway Street, 3 blocks from the Papp Hotel. "You thinking that the merc’s last call was made to the sniper?”

“Yeah. The mercs and the sniper were obviously working together, for the people behind everything else.”

“Everything else, which you still haven’t yet proven to me is all connected,” replied Diggle critically. “Surely you have an idea on who the sniper is?”

Oliver moved back to the computer and opened the tab with the man’s profile and picture. “Rhys Walker. Nothing suspicious from the outside. Just seems to be an ordinary businessman. What’s suspicious is that he has no living family and has been staying at the Papp hotel for, precisely, the last 27 days.”

“That’s from about a week before the mass shooting,” recognised Diggle. Diggle eyed the man’s picture. He appeared in good shape and was a fairly handsome fellow, sporting a thick mustache accompanied by a scruff of a beard. “He looks like he could be a movie villain,” joked Diggle, “There’s nothing concrete indicating that he’s our guy though.”

“True, but nonetheless, we need to pay him a visit.”

“Sure,” said Diggle, as his phone buzzed and he received a message, cursing as he read it. “Dammit.”

“What is it?”

“They need me at ARGUS. Something’s come up.”

“Go.”

“What if you need backup?” asked Diggle concernedly.

“I won’t. Trust me.”

* * *

The Papp Hotel hadn’t changed a whole lot since the last time Oliver had been here, back when he was tracking Floyd Lawton during his early days as The Hood. Business struggled for a while, with people being wary of staying at a place where a vigilante had a shootout with a hitman, but that fear eventually went away. Slight refurbishes here and there kept the place in good shape, but it was still no place where a businessman of Walker’s supposed caliber should be staying at all, let alone for over a month.

Walker was in room 32, situated right at the end of the floor hallway. Oliver had entered the premises through the window of an unoccupied room, and walked carefully in the hallway towards Walker’s door. He wanted to be careful not to alert him with his presence outside of his room. Taking in a deep breath first, Oliver took a step forward before ramming his foot at the door hinge, breaking it open.

His eyes tracked movement to the far left corner of the room, where Walker shot up out of a chair, drawing a pistol. Having already nocked an arrow, Oliver fired it milliseconds before Walker pulled the trigger. The weapon fired, but the pistol was knocked out of his hands and the bullet missed Oliver. Oliver moved closer to the man, firing another arrow which pierced his left shoulder. Walker attempted a valiant fight upon closing the distance with Oliver, but Oliver’s ambush gave him the advantage as his element of surprise proved too much of an obstacle for Walker to overcome. He threw out a punch, but Oliver ducked under it and swung his left fist right towards the floating rib on Walker’s right side. A perfectly placed liver shot.

From that point on, Walker had no chance. He stumbled and prepared to fight back, but was unable to. The stinging sensation spread through his torso, and the pain forced him to kneel over. Within a couple of seconds, he had felt like his entire body had shut down, with the excruciating pain clouding his mind while all of the air left his body. It didn’t help that Oliver immediately flew across the room to knee him directly in the face, knocking him to the ground.

The liver shot had done all of the work for Oliver, with the knee strike just to make sure Walker was truly out of the fight. Oliver nocked another arrow as he waited patiently for a few more seconds to allow Walker to catch some of his breath. He lifted his bow, aiming at Walker’s chest before speaking.

“Rhys Walker, I will gladly put this arrow through your heart if you don’t tell me who you work for.”

“I don’t work for anybody,” wheezed Walker, wiping the blood that had started to pour from his nose. “I serve a cause.”

“What cause?!”

“You wouldn’t understand, with your bow and arrows and misplaced sense of righteousness.” Oliver lost patience with Walker’s cryptic speech, as he raised his bow slightly and fired the arrow just millimeters to the left of Walker’s neck.

“Last chance,” said Oliver as he nocked another arrow. “Who put you up to this?”

“You want a name? I’ll give you one… _Azrael._ ”

As Walker finished his words, police sirens began to become audible to their ears, and Oliver realised it was time to leave. He placed the arrow back in his quiver, before turning Walker around and binding his hands together with zip ties. The sprawled parts of a rifle on the desk which Walker was previously sitting at would give the police a good enough indication of who he really was.

“You have no idea what you’re up against!” declared Walker ominously as Oliver stepped towards the exit.

* * *

Oliver sped back to the lair as quickly as he ever had before, and practically sprinted down the stairs and towards the computers. He didn’t even take his suit off, only doing so after an hour of research into ‘Azrael’. At first, Oliver struggled with his searches, not knowing whether Azrael was a person or organisation.

He eventually found his answer, but the information was still scarce. “Azrael” was a person, an unidentified extremist. Unsubstantiated reports linked him to a couple of chemical attacks and assassinations, but the reports were just that. Unsubstantiated. Whatever he found appeared to be limited, and there was nothing of substance that could point Oliver in the direction of his true identity. Diggle never returned to the lair, and neither did Oliver to his apartment.

He was so focused on his research that he didn’t realise that the sun had eventually risen. When he did, he took a momentary break to grab a cup of coffee to allow him to continue. He visited Bratva associates in the city who helped provide him with more pieces of information. Despite their fallout in 2017, Oliver and Anatoly eventually made amends, and Oliver was reinstated as a Bratva Captain. Oliver spent the whole next day piecing together whatever information he could find, only sleeping for 5 hours in the afternoon to rejuvenate before continuing. By the time he was done, he eyed down what he had gathered, and realised what a mighty task it would be to bring down what he was about to face.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver presents his findings of who is behind the events in the city to Diggle.

“Got your message,” said Diggle, as he walked down the stairs to the lair. It was late, the time being 21:00.

“Glad you could make it,” replied Oliver without turning to face Diggle. “You owe me a beer.”

“What for?” asked Diggle, as he walked towards Oliver while scanning the area in front of him. He noted Oliver’s fixation with a board in front of him, having not taken his eyes off it.

“Because I was right,” replied Oliver, as he turned the board to face Diggle.

The board was riddled with several printed news headlines and images, connected by strings and leading to a single image in the middle – A blacked stock silhouette of a man, with a question mark placed on his chest. Diggle scanned the board, reading the headlines and analysing the images.

“Azrael…” started Oliver, as he pointed to the black silhouette in the middle of the board, “It’s the name Walker gave me. It’s an alias, for sure. He’s an extremist, and that’s as much as I could find on him. Once I couldn’t find more on him, I started looking at other things. At any potential associates, and what he’s been involved in.” Oliver began pointing at the headlines on the board. “The meltdown of the Koeberg Nuclear Station in South Africa. The car crash that killed a UN Under-Secretary General. Accidents? No. They were planned, just like everything that’s happened over the past month in Star City. Pollard, the weapon shipments, the gangs, Diaz, they’ve all been the work of a single entity,” explained Oliver, “A shadow terrorist organisation, named _Cobalt_.”

Diggle didn’t speak up.

“They’re not that well-known. Some intelligence agencies don’t even think they exist,” continued Oliver, “They’ve also been responsible for inciting ethnic conflict in West Africa, orchestrating bombings in Europe, the list goes on. Azrael, he’s their leader, and I don’t know who he is or why he’s targeting Star City, but I swear to God, Diggle, I am going to find out and I am going to stop him.” Oliver turned his full attention towards Diggle, noting how he hadn’t taken his eyes off the board. He seemed frozen, but not surprised. Not shocked…

“Oliver, you need to walk away from this, man,” said Diggle, somberly.

“Dig, how can I? Look at this, John! How can you tell me that I’m not needed when there’s an organisation like this trying to tear down our city?” replied Oliver.

“Oliver, how can you look at this and think that you have any chance of stopping them?”

“I’ve taken down the H.I.V.E., I’ve taken down the League of Assassins, Diggle, I can end this.“

“No, Oliver! You do not understand what you are getting yourself into!” Something about the intensity in Diggle’s voice froze Oliver completely. His pleading tone, mixed with an attitude of which a commanding officer would use when speaking to his juniors. Oliver stared Diggle down, locking his eyes on him. Diggle turned his gaze away from Oliver, unable to look him in the eye. He knew something…

“You know about Cobalt, don’t you?” asked Oliver sternly. “You know that they’re in Star City?”

“Not that they’re here, no.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Dig!”

“Oliver, I didn’t know! I swear on my life, man! And to be honest, even if I did know, that information doesn’t concern you.”

“What the hell do you mean it doesn’t concern me? This is my city!”

“As a civilian, yes, but not as the Green Arrow or the Mayor.”

“I don’t have time for this, Diggle! You asked me for proof, and I’ve given it to you. Now the ball is in your court. What does ARGUS have on Azrael and Cobalt?” Diggle sighed before answering Oliver’s question.

“I can’t recall anything off the top of my head. I’ll have to do a bit of research to find out.” Oliver could sense Diggle was being honest, but his thought of a response was cut short when one of his phones started buzzing. It was Mack Morgan.

_“We’ve got a problem, hoss.”_

“What is it?”

_“The guy you brought in. Walker. They let him go.”_

“What? Why?”

_“They said he was clean. I only found out now. It was Smith’s orders.”_

“Where is Smith right now?”

_“Still at the precinct, but I think he’ll be heading home soon.”_

Oliver hung up the phone and resisted the urge to slam it back on the table. He placed it down gently before moving to collect his suit jacket.

“What happened?” asked Diggle.

“They let Walker go. I think I need to pay our anti-vigilante Captain a visit.”

* * *

Matthew Smith didn’t know what hit him as he was shoved and then slammed onto the bonnet of his car while reaching for the door handle. Suddenly, he felt his arm being contorted to the point where his shoulder was on the verge of dislocation.

“What the fuck?” he managed to say through the pain.

“Shut up! I’m going to ask the questions!” growled Oliver, as he torqued Smith’s arm even more. “Are you working for Cobalt? For Azrael?”

“What?”

“Are you working for Azrael?!” repeated Oliver, with more venom in his voice.

“What the hell are you talking about? Who’s Azrael?” Throughout his life, Oliver had had to deal with plenty of liars and deceivers, and he’d become quite adept at telling when people were lying. As much as he would’ve liked for his suspicions about Smith to be true, they weren’t. He was being truthful.

“Why did you let Rhys Walker go?” said Oliver, changing the topic.

“He was clean, and in case you’ve forgotten, the police don’t work with vigilantes anymore,” replied Smith as he tried to push himself free, but Oliver’s grip was too strong.

“There was a rifle in his hotel room!”

“Yeah, one he had a license for and couldn’t load the rounds used in the mass shooting or the attempt on Lance! Even with that, I wanted to detain him for longer but I couldn’t.”

“Why? You gave the orders to let him go!”

“I was forced to by the Chief! He insisted we let him off the hook and apologise profusely!”

Oliver took a moment to ponder on Smith’s words. With Quentin’s transport being compromised, and the release of Walker, Oliver had assumed it was Smith working with Azrael. The possibility of the Chief being the corrupt one hadn’t crossed his mind. He could’ve been the only other person to have known the full details of both operations. His thought process was interrupted when Smith spoke up again.

“It’s no surprise that the city is going to shit now. Every time someone like you shows up, a ‘mask’, it’s never a good sign.” Smith’s arm was twisted more before the pressure was relieved. By the time he turned around, he only caught a glimpse of the Green Arrow grappling up on to a rooftop before he disappeared.

* * *

Oliver’s frustration and anger hadn’t dwindled by the time he returned to the lair. “Smith’s not working with Azrael,” he said, approaching Diggle.

“How do you know for sure?” retorted Diggle.

“I could tell, he was telling the truth. It was actually the Chief who gave the orders to let Walker go.”

“You think the Chief is the one in bed with Azrael?”

“Maybe. He’s the only other man besides Smith who could have known about Quentin’s transport route.”

“It’s possible. Why did they let Walker go though?”

“Apparently the rifle in his hotel room didn’t match the specs of the ones used in the mass shooting or the attempt on Lance. It’s bullshit, I saw the rifle myself and it was a Dragunov.”

“So what are you suggesting here?”

“The cops that picked him up must have done a swap. That could mean the Chief is clean, but I have to be sure.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diggle informs Oliver of the rumours surrounding Azrael's past.

The next day, Oliver had spent the majority of his time looking into Chief Brian Nudocerdo’s recent activities and digital footprint. He’d requested for Mack Morgan to help with the investigation, who provided him with the phone records from Nudocerdo’s office. A singular call had been made to the same number that Walker had used, and on top of that, a series of monetary transactions had been wired into Nudocerdo’s bank account from offshore accounts. He was definitely working with Azrael, and Oliver asked Morgan to tail Nudocerdo for the day to see if he could provide any clues to Diaz or Azrael’s location. Diggle joined him in the lair at around 21:00.

“How’d your research go?” asked Diggle.

“Nudocerdo is in on it,” replied Oliver, swinging around on his chair to face Diggle. “If Azrael somehow has the Chief on his payroll, then this goes way deeper than I thought. He could have judges, other police officers, city council members…” Oliver’s words trailed off as he thought of the possibility of his city being wired.

“Speaking of Azrael, I did some more digging on him and found some things which I think you need to hear,” said Diggle.

“I’m all ears,” replied Oliver, as he rose from the chair to grab his suit jacket.

“There’s still not much surrounding Azrael’s early life,” explained Diggle. “Pre-2007, there’s practically nothing on him. It is believed that around the same time that The Queen’s Gambit went down, he became a mercenary, doing contracts in South America, Chechnya and the Middle East, all before his sudden disappearance in 2010.”

“Disappearance?” inquired Oliver.

“The rumours are that in 2010, a job went south in Kashmir and he was nearly killed. At the last second, he was rescued and then… he was taken to Nanda Parbat.”

“Azrael became a member of the League of Assassins?”

“Yes. That’s where he was given the name Azrael.”

“Why? What does Azrael mean?”

“In Islam, Azrael is the Angel of Death… He was not part of the League for long. He was released by Ra’s before you joined. For years, Malcolm Merlyn was the only man to have been released from the League, but Azrael was the second.”

“Why?”

“Nobody knows, but what we do know is that he immediately formed Cobalt once he was released, and he has been leading it ever since.” When he didn’t get any sort of reaction from Oliver, Diggle spoke up once again. “Oliver, it’s not too late to call this off, man.”

“I asked for intel, Dig. Not rumours,” replied Oliver, dismissively.

“Rumours substantiated by a lot of evidence. Oliver, this man was given The Grim Reaper’s name by Ra’s Al Ghul. You need to take him seriously.”

“I am taking him seriously, Dig. That’s why I’m doing this.”

“This city doesn’t need you to be the Green Arrow. Those days are gone. You can fight this in a million other ways, all of which don’t end up with you dead.”

“You think that if I continue to go out there, I’m going to die?”

“You’re not the man you used to be, Oliver. You can come back down here with a fancy new hood and bow and try to convince yourself that you are, but you’re not.”

Oliver was about to reply when his phone rang, and it was Mack Morgan once again.

_“I’ve been tailing Nudocerdo the whole day. He’s just entered the docks, and I’ve got a pretty good feeling that he’s meeting with Albert Davis.”_

“Alright. You’ve done your part. Go home, I’ll take care of it,” replied Oliver, hanging up the phone.

* * *

Just seconds after Brian Nudocerdo had arrived, Albert Davis and the Chief were joined by a second group of men. Judging from the weight of the footsteps of the man leading them, he was not happy.

“Where is he?” asked Ricardo Diaz, with a demanding tone.

“He’ll be here,” replied Davis, nonchalantly. Diaz was in no mood to discuss affairs with Nudocerdo, opting to wait in silence for the man he truly wanted to see. A couple of minutes later, he arrived in a small van, accompanied by an entourage of five heavily armed men.

“I’m not used to being summoned, Mr Diaz,” he said immediately.

Diaz stepped forward to confront him. “Oh, yeah? Well sorry, I just wasn’t sure that you’ve been paying any fuckin’ attention lately!”

“Attention to what?” he replied coolly.

“The Green Arrow is back in town, and he is screwing things up for all of us.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

“So why aren’t you doing anything about it?!”

“I am. The Green Arrow will get what’s coming to him in due time. Please remember Mr Diaz, I can take away your freedom as quickly as I gave it to you. Think of that the next time you challenge me.” He turned to move back to his vehicle, but the crack of a bow rang out, followed by an explosion that sent the men behind Ricardo Diaz flying. He didn’t flinch at the sudden turn of events, instead returning to his vehicle and signalling for the driver to hit the gas.

* * *

The incendiary arrow dispatched the several men accompanying Diaz. He fired another incendiary arrow at the van of the man Diaz was meeting, but it did little damage to the vehicle, which was armoured. Albert Davis and the Chief attempted to make a run for it, but Oliver sent an arrow through each of their knees. With just him and Diaz left, Oliver fired an arrow at him, but Diaz’s reflexes allowed him to catch it before it made contact with his body. Oliver expected that, and the flashbang arrow combusted in Diaz’s face, momentarily blinding him. He screamed in pain as he staggered around trying to regain his vision. He was unable to regain his bearings by the time Oliver ran to him and knocked him unconscious with one well-placed swing of his bow.

With all the threats having been eliminated, Oliver turned his attention to the van speeding away. Being armoured, he knew not to waste another arrow by trying to fire at its hind, but that didn’t mean that he still couldn’t stop it from moving. On this side of the docks, they would have to drive around the edge to reach the exit, giving Oliver enough time to make it to the other side if he travelled across through the narrow gaps in between the containers. He broke off into a sprint, eventually making it to his electric bike and speeding full throttle towards the other side. He reached the exit just in time to intercept the van, hopping off his bike and firing a flashbang arrow at the windshield. Its combustion blinded the driver just like it had for Diaz, and the van swerved for a bit before it came to a halt.

Oliver nocked another arrow as he began to approach it. When the first gunman stepped out, Oliver dispatched of him with an arrow but wasn’t quick enough to stop himself from getting shot by the second gunman that stepped out next. The bullet hit him in the gut, causing him to crouch in pain. He was surprised that there were no follow-up shots, and when he was finally able to look back up, he was met with the sight of four more armoured men pointing their rifles at him. He nocked another arrow in vain when a voice behind the armed men spoke up.

“I wouldn’t bother if I were you.” The man that had met with Diaz walked around his men, taking his place in front and center of their formation, coming face-to-face with Oliver. “It doesn’t look like you thought this through.”

“Who are you?!” asked Oliver, keeping his bow drawn despite knowing he had little chance of surviving if he was fired upon.

“I’m the man you’ve been looking for this whole time... _Mr Queen_.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver finally comes face-to-face with Azrael, and is issued an ultimatum.

“I’m the man you’ve been looking for this whole time... _Mr Queen_.”

Oliver’s heart skipped a beat as the man said his name. It took him another second to truly realise who was standing in front of him.

“Azrael,” he said, with the man replying with a nod.

“I must say, despite my meticulous planning, your return was not something that I truly anticipated,” said Azrael. “Quite a story, you have. Billionaire playboy gets shipwrecked, comes back a changed man and becomes one of the most influential figures of the 21st century. It’s actually somewhat inspiring.”

Oliver’s silence prompted Azrael to continue speaking.

“Listen well, Mr Queen. You cannot stop what’s been set in motion. Attempting to do so would be futile. Now, I am quite a reasonable man, so I’m going to give you a chance… Walk away. Leave Star City and take your friends and family with you. Hang up that hood, once and for all, and then you’ll be able to live the rest of your life peacefully.” With those words, Azrael turned around, with his men following suit as he opened the door to the van.

“If I refuse?” asked Oliver, prompting Azrael to turn around and face Oliver once more.

“Then be prepared to die.”

* * *

“What happened?” asked Diggle, as Oliver walked back into the lair.

“Diaz was there with Nudocerdo. I managed to take them down,” replied Oliver. He moved to the desk next to his computer, quickly grabbing a pencil and paper.

“What are you doing?” asked Diggle.

“Sketching. I got eyes on Azrael.”

“What? He was there?”

“Yeah. He showed his face, and I knew it was him. That means we can run facial recognition and maybe get an identity.” Diggle sensed Oliver was a bit agitated, and questioned him on it.

“So what are you not telling me?” asked Diggle.

“He knows.”

“Knows what?”

“He knows my identity, and he told me to stop doing this.”

“And given this recent revelation that he knows who you are, I would assume that’s a piece of advice that you’re going to follow.”

“Dig, I’m not going to abandon my city,” replied Oliver, as he turned to face Diggle.

“That’s not what I’m asking you to do, Oliver. The fact that this guy knows who you are means everybody is in danger. Not just you, but me, Thea, Roy, William…”

“I know, which is why you guys are going to need to lay low, maybe even leave town while I figure out how to get to Azrael and stop him.”

“Oliver, are you even listening to yourself?! It’s as if you want to face this man, and lose your life in the process.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I don’t think you’re doing this for the right reasons, Oliver. I think that over the past seven years, you’ve had three things keeping you afloat. You had your family, William and Thea, but you think they don’t need you as much anymore. You had Kara, who taught you how to love and find joy in life again, but now she’s no longer with you. And lastly, you were the mayor, and you believed that being the mayor was your way of helping the city without the hood. A substitute. Now, with all of these things gone, you’ve pushed yourself back down here to help yourself.”

“To help myself? Diggle, this has never been about me. This has always been about helping the people. Saving the city, not ourselves.”

“And yet, here you are. You’re here somehow thinking that you are the only thing between the city and Cobalt. History is repeating itself, Oliver. You’ve come back down here, wanting to go at this by yourself and I’m here trying to keep your head on straight. The only difference is that twelve years ago, you just went through a crucible that prepared you for this. But now, you’re no longer that man. You found a life past these walls. You moved on.”

“Well evidently, I haven’t. Dig, this… this is what I am. This is _who_ I am. Come hell or high water, if I deny it and let Azrael destroy my city, I’ll be denying everything that I’ve ever fought for. Everything that I’ve sacrificed and worked for over the past twelve years.”

“There’s a fundamental difference between men like him and us, Oliver. We are men of privilege, who chose to become soldiers. A man like him, with the things that he’s done? He never had that choice. He was born into war. He’s been hardened by the pain and suffering of being raised in hell on Earth, and after seven years away, you can’t just think that you’re going to be able to easily take down a man like that.”

“I will find a way to win, Dig. I always do,” replied Oliver, stubborn.

“No, Oliver… You don’t, and if you need any proof of that, I suggest that you take a walk to Starling Cemetery, and visit the graves of-“

Diggle’s words were cut short when his face was bludgeoned by a vicious punch from Oliver, who couldn’t contain his anger at the mention of the team. Diggle stumbled from the strike, falling on to the table next to him.

“How dare you… How dare you use them against me!” screamed Oliver at Diggle.

“I’m using the truth dammit!” replied Diggle, as he slammed his fist into the table, “I’m using _the truth_ , Oliver, and if you can’t accept the truth, then I can’t help you anymore.”

“If that’s the way it has to be,” he replied, before shrugging his shoulders. With that, Diggle nodded, accepting that Oliver couldn’t be talked out of his mission as he made his way towards the stairs. Before leaving, he turned to face Oliver one last time.

“You know, I’ve been to enough of my friends’ funerals. I don’t want to have to be at yours.”

* * *

Oliver did not lament Diggle’s departure, nor did he ponder upon his words. If Diggle wanted to be a shrink and diagnose Oliver with a mid-life crisis, then so be it. Right now, only the mission mattered. He finished his sketch of Azrael, trying his best to recreate the proportions of his facial features, articulating every dimple and strand of his thin moustache and small chin puff. He ran two facial recognition algorithms, one through Star City’s CCTV cameras and then the other through intelligence databases. Running facial recognition off a sketch was potentially problematic. Oliver had done his best to accurately draw Azrael, and the software he was using was trained to work off sketches. Still, Azrael was probably smart enough to scarcely show his face, so Oliver expected more luck with anything on his identity.

Nearly a half hour later, the opposite of what Oliver had expected had occurred. There was no match for Azrael on the CIA and Interpol’s database. He couldn’t access the ARGUS database and didn’t want to ask Mia to help. If the CIA didn’t have anything on him, then he doubted ARGUS would. He didn’t get unnerved, but it was troubling to think this man virtually had no identity.

CCTV cameras picked Azrael up by an old entrance to the abandoned Starling subway. It was a partial match, but Oliver recognised the van, so he was sure it was him. He ran through the footage since, and it didn’t look like Azrael had left. Now, Oliver knew what needed to be done. He had rummaged for a face and a location, and now he had both. He grabbed his bow as he set out to end this, once and for all.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver infiltrates Azrael's hideout and engages him in a fight.

After scouting the surrounding area and determining there were no external threats, Oliver moved towards the metal doors that led into the subway. There was a small hatch at eye level, one which a guard on the inside would likely open to identify the person on the outside. Oliver gently placed two thermal charges by the handle of the door, before knocking twice on the door. The door was shut airtight, but he could faintly hear the movements inside. Oliver nocked an arrow and aimed it directly at the hatch.

As soon as it slid open, Oliver fired the arrow, and he heard it pierce the man’s skull on the other side. He quickly nocked a flashbang arrow thereafter, firing it through the open hatch. He waited for the combustion of the arrow to disorientate the two other men, before he activated the thermal charges. The charges burnt through the hinge, and Oliver leapt forward to kick the door open. He immediately put arrows through the two other’s chests.

Oliver descended the stairs hastily, turning a corner to immediately be met with two more men. He reacted quickly, striking the one closest to him across the face with his bow before throwing a flechette into the other’s throat. Oliver engaged the other, first striking his rifle to the side and then swinging his leg into the man’s groin.

“Where’s Azrael?!” growled Oliver, as the man collapsed in pain. He pointed to the left of the tunnel, with Oliver thanking him by ramming his knee into his head to knock him out.

There were a few more men on standby but that made no difference to Oliver. He had the element of surprise, an advantage of stealth and had come prepared with a quiver of 50 arrows. He was keeping count, now down to 48. He continued to stealthily move through the tunnel, taking out the few others that were on standby, silently choking them out, putting them down with flechettes and occasionally firing arrows.

When one portion around the bend of the tunnel appeared to be emitting light, Oliver hastily moved towards it. He moved around the bend cautiously, but there were no armed men there. Instead, he was met with the sight of a newly built structure. Out of place in the old tunnel was what appeared to be a bunker of sorts. The metal door in the middle was ever so slightly open, allowing for the brightly lit inside to spill through. Taking a deep breath, Oliver nocked an arrow before kicking the door open.

He knew he was in the right place, spotting Azrael immediately and firing the arrow. Azrael effortlessly caught the arrow, and just as Oliver nocked another one, nearly a dozen men burst out from a door to the left, all armed with AR-15s. They surrounded Oliver, who cursed himself for not having nocked an explosive arrow as a precautionary measure. Azrael smiled as he saw Oliver realise the situation he was in, studying the tip of the arrow he had caught as he spoke up.

“So, we find ourselves in this situation once again,” he said nonchalantly. Oliver didn’t respond, frozen as he didn’t know what move to make. Azrael smiled, before scoffing and speaking again.

“Did you really think that you could just break in, take out all of my men and then kill me? Clearly, Mr Queen, you’re dumber than I thought.”

“At least I’m not a coward, hiding behind a firing squad,” replied Oliver.

“Is that seriously the card you’re going to play? Come on, Oliver. At least face your death with some honour.”

“You’re one to talk about honour. You’ve taken thousands of innocent lives.”

“Nobody is ‘innocent’, Mr Queen. Deep down, we all have a primordial darkness inside of us. There are only those who choose to embrace it, or those who try to repress it. You should know that better than anybody. Seven years you’ve spent trying to do the latter, but yet here you are, doing the former.”

“Enough talk!” growled Oliver. “Make a choice. Are you going to let your spineless lackeys shoot me, or are you going to do the dirty work yourself?”

Azrael grinned before replying. “Alright. I’ll give you what you want. A fight. Either you kill me, and then this all ends, or I kill you, and then you’re finally at peace.”

“What guarantee do I have that your men won’t shoot me?”

“Leave.” Oliver was initially confused by his reply but then realised that the order wasn’t meant for him. Each man left the room, including Rhys Walker, who gave Oliver a cocky smirk as he passed him. Once they were gone, Oliver relaxed his bowstring, placing the arrow back in his quiver. He kept his eye on Azrael as he stepped back to close and lock the door.

Azrael pointed to the other door on his right. “The code to that door is 0141. It will lead you out to the middle of The Glades. I cannot control my men’s actions posthumously, but I really doubt that they would hunt you down if you were to kill me. Not like that’s going to happen anyway.”

“Only one of us is leaving this room alive, and it won’t be you,” replied Oliver. Azrael removed his black trench coat and tossed it aside. He smirked arrogantly, before raising a hand to signal him to come forward and begin the fight.

The center of the room was cleared out and allowed ample space for linear and lateral movement for both combatants. Only four concrete pillars occupied the space close to them, but they were far enough apart to not restrict their movements. The two men began cautiously circling each other, each feinting in an attempt to read their opponent’s defensive reactions.

Oliver knew that he could not recklessly charge forward in this fight. As much as he knew nothing about Azrael, he had to respect him. He could see just from the way he moved that Azrael was a seasoned fighter and ridiculously conditioned. Wearing a sleeveless top, his arms looked as if they were chiselled from granite, and Oliver could see how his long cargo pants conformed to the musculature of his legs. He was also bigger than Oliver. They were the same height, but Azrael possessed a naturally larger frame, one which gave him what Oliver estimated to be at least 10 more pounds of pure muscle.

Azrael’s fingertips brushed the side of his temple, moving forward with a high guard similar to that of a Thai or Russian boxer. His face was stone-cold blank, making Oliver feel as if Azrael was staring right through him. He commanded the space around him, using his larger frame to pressure Oliver back. Oliver threw a leg kick, only to feel as if he’d hurt hit foot more than Azrael’s calf. He then blitzed forward to swing his bow into Azrael’s midsection. The blow landed, but as it did, Oliver was cracked with a return punch from Azrael that sent him stumbling back. He looked back at Azrael, who seemed to have been unfazed by the blow. He continued to march forward like a Terminator, and Oliver realised this fight was not going to end quickly. Kicking his legs felt like kicking steel, and he had walked through a clean strike from a Promethium bow. He had to systematically break him down if he wanted to win this fight.

Oliver attacked again, throwing a four-strike combination of punches, ending with bow strikes. None of them landed. Azrael blocked the first two, before slipping and ducking the last two strikes. As the bow flew over his head, Azrael rose up and wrapped his arm over Oliver’s before cranking it, hyperextending Oliver’s elbow. Oliver groaned as the pain forced him to drop his bow, but his cry was cut short as Azrael kneed him in the stomach and threw a short punch into Oliver’s temple.

Oliver wiggled his arm free of Azrael’s grip, and flung out a right hook. Azrael anticipated the strike, as he weaved under and fired a two punch combination, one to Oliver’s ribs and then to the head. He followed up with an elbow directly to the face, which knocked Oliver down to the ground. A sadistic smile formed on his face, and he raised his hands mockingly.

“Down already?”

The elbow had rattled Oliver, and he had to take a moment to regain his bearings before replying. “Coming right up.”

A metallic taste enveloped his mouth, and he spat out the blood before jumping back to his feet. Azrael had kicked his bow to the other side of the room, but Oliver continued the fight nonetheless. Azrael had dealt the early damage but Oliver had felt as if he was starting to get a good read of his style. He was plodding, using little fancy footwork, and favoured striking with his hands. He was powerful, hitting harder and faster than anticipated, but Oliver still believed he had the speed advantage. He’d probably have to take one punch to land two, but that was something he was willing to do to win this fight.

He took advantage of Azrael’s high guard, throwing a straight punch to his stomach. He recognised that his guard remained high, and Oliver followed up with a left hook to the body, aiming for the liver. It didn’t quite hit the right spot, but by now he knew it was going to take more than one punch to break Azrael down, so that didn’t bother him. He ducked under the return punch from Azrael before throwing the same combination that had been used on himself. Hook to the body, hook to the head, ending with an elbow to the face. His speed proved beneficial, as all three strikes landed. For the first time in the contest, Azrael took a step back. Oliver decided to add a fourth strike to the combo, finishing with a head kick. The kick was partially blocked by Azrael’s guard, but Oliver felt the tip of his boot strike Azrael on the head.

Azrael stumbled back, before smiling and replying. “That’s more like it.”

Oliver knew that he had felt those strikes, and continued to press the action. He varied his next combination, making sure not to give Azrael a pattern to read. Throwing a left kick to the body, he expected Azrael to return with a punch, so immediately he threw a right hand thereafter to intercept him. His speed helped once again, as his punch landed before Azrael’s. Oliver followed up with more strikes, and even those that didn’t land cleanly seemed to get a reaction. He evaded Azrael’s return strikes, countering with his own as he felt as if there was a momentum shift in the fight. He focused his strikes on Azrael’s body, hoping to wind him and sap his energy.

Still, Azrael’s power seemed to be the deciding factor. After throwing a combination that ended with a leg kick, Oliver felt a return leg kick from Azrael strike him with far more power. His was more effective, hurting Oliver to a greater extent. Azrael slipped and blocked the following punches from Oliver and pivoted away to his left.

Oliver recognised that Azrael was moving to his left, and threw out a right roundhouse body kick to intercept him. The kick connected with Azrael’s ribs, but Oliver had made the mistake of dropping his right hand, leaving his face exposed. Azrael took the kick, and then speedily leapt forward with a straight left hand. The left hand caught Oliver clean on the jaw, stunning him.

He managed to spot Azrael’s follow-up punches, ducking under them. Still rattled, Oliver’s distance management was poor as he allowed Azrael to close the distance between them. Unable to move away, he engaged in a clinch, throwing uppercuts and knees. The strikes connected cleanly and Oliver thought they were hurting Azrael. He continued to throw, but found out that fighting with Azrael in the close-range pocket was a huge mistake. He used his strength to overpower Oliver, breaking his grip before unloading with two heavy shots to the body and then knocking Oliver back down with a uppercut-hook combination. He raised his hands mockingly again.

“Come on. Is this all the Green Arrow has to offer?”

Oliver was sure at least one of his ribs on his right side was cracked after the body punches and tried to hide the pain from his face as he got back to his feet. He was going to need a strategy change. He abandoned striking with his hands, instead opting to pepper Azrael with kicks from a distance. He threw virtually his entire arsenal at him. Sidekicks, front kicks to the knee and body, roundhouses and spinning attacks to the head. Most of them were blocked or dodged, and those that did land didn’t inflict significant damage. Azrael closed the distance once more, blitzing forward with another body shot which landed on the area where Oliver’s ribs were compromised. Oliver had just enough presence of mind to see the right hand incoming, and slipped it before jogging away from Azrael.

“You’re failing, Oliver,” said Azrael. “Just like how you failed your team. Curtis, Dinah…”

“Don’t you say their names!” growled back Oliver, as he threw another combination. Each punch landed, but once again, none of them hurt Azrael, who returned with a left elbow to Oliver’s head and then a knee into his midsection.

He continued to taunt as Oliver retreated, desperate to regain his breath. “Rene, Felicity, Laurel… There’s too many to name. You failed to save them, you’re failing to save your city, you’re failing to stop me. Simply put, you’re a failure.”

The elbow which Azrael had landed earlier had opened a sizable cut above Oliver’s right eyebrow, and the blood was starting to seep into his eye. The pain in his midsection was too severe for Oliver to lift his right hand, so he tried to wipe the red tint obscuring his vision with his left hand. Within a second, Azrael was on him again. Oliver reacted to his feints, fearing his power, and didn’t realise until it was too late that Azrael did not intend to strike with his hands. Suddenly, he felt as if his knee had combusted, as a powerful kick from Azrael obliterated Oliver’s left leg, the power so great that it swept Oliver off his feet. The taunting would not stop.

“This is just getting pathetic now.”

Oliver screamed in agony as he grasped his knee, but he was far from quitting. He laboured himself up on to all fours, but another kick came flying into his midsection, sending him back to the floor.

Oliver struggled to his feet once again. Another strategy change proved to be in vain, as a takedown attempt was easily stuffed by Azrael, who pushed Oliver to the side while barely budging himself. Oliver forced himself off the ground for the fifth time in the contest.

“Well, you have courage, I’ll give you that.” 

Oliver knew he’d lost the fight at this point. He’d taken far too much damage and his stamina was drained from the body punches while Azrael seemed to have been as fresh as he was at the beginning of the fight. Azrael didn’t even bother keeping his high guard anymore, as he kept his hands arrogantly by his sides while he waited for Oliver to make the next move. Oliver threw a laboured left hand punch, with Azrael easily catching it. He swung Oliver around, throwing him full force into a concrete pillar near them. The pop of Oliver’s shoulder was audible, who immediately knew that it was dislocated from absorbing the impact of the throw.

Still, he refused to give up. Azrael effortlessly dodged his following punches before simply shoving him away, and with the ten different kinds of pain crippling his body, Oliver had to use every fibre of his being to simply remain standing. He turned to face Azrael again, but had no time to react as Azrael drove his fist into Oliver’s midsection, causing him to crumble and slump over.

“And so, your inspiring story comes to an end.”

“Go to hell,” wheezed Oliver, as blood dribbled out of his mouth.

“I’ve already been there, Mr Queen. Now, it’s your turn.”

The words were the last thing Oliver heard before the incoming uppercut from Azrael, the final strike of the fight, separated him from his consciousness.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azrael televises his execution of Oliver Queen, broadcasting it to the entire city.

Oliver jolted back into consciousness, gasping for air before immediately feeling the pains over his entire body flare up. He could barely move, as every action seemed to cause an ache. Just breathing was difficult, as he found himself wheezing and coughing. His grimaces made the cuts on his face split open again, causing him more agony as he felt the flesh surrounding the lacerations pull apart.

“Awake just in time.”

He turned his head slightly as he heard Azrael speak up. They were in the back of a van, where Azrael was seated to Oliver’s left while he lay on the floor. He realised he was no longer in his Green Arrow suit, with his suit jacket being replaced by a simple shirt.

“You said you were going to kill me,” muttered Oliver, the words struggling out of his mouth.

“Patience is evidently not one of your strong suits. Of course I’m going to kill you, but first, you must be humiliated. Exposed to the people of Star City for who you really are,” replied Azrael.

“You’re going to tell them I’m the Green Arrow?” asked Oliver.

“No. If they were to find out that you were the man who spent years risking his life every night trying to make this city better, they’d only rally in your memory. They’d see you as a martyr. That will only give them more hope, and hope is what I wish to take away from them.”

“Why are you doing this?” asked Oliver. Azrael took a deep breath before replying.

“Simply put, Mr Queen, I want to send a message. A message to the world, and Star City is the perfect place for that… You know, I spent many years in combat, and it was in war where I thought that I saw the worst in people. I was wrong. I actually saw the worst when I came home from war. I saw politicians rub their fat bellies and pretend to be the ones making a difference while young men were shipped off to fight wars that they did not start. They used buzz words like honour and hope to convince them that they were fighting for freedom, when they were only tightening the shackles on the oppressed. Amidst all of this, they spoke of ‘humanity’. Tell me, what is ‘humanity’, Mr Queen? From a young age, we are told that humanity is a virtue. That it is what we call our inherent nature to be altruistic. That simply could not be further from the truth…

“If it were, then a spineless young boy from Star City, born with a silver-spoon in his mouth would never have ended up with a body count of close to 100 people by the time he was 30. You need not to even look further than yourself to prove that humans are inherently sadistic, cruel, murderous beings. That is _true_ humanity. Just as I told you earlier, everyone has a primordial darkness inside of them. There are only some who acknowledge it, and even fewer who embrace it…

“And that, is what I seek to do with your beloved city. To get its people to embrace their primal instincts, to expose their ‘true humanity’, and consequentially show the world what it has known for decades yet has been unable to accept… it needs reform. The current system is broken and bigoted, with those in power being allowed to pillage and exploit without remorse, without accountability, without consequence. But not anymore. The destruction of this city will be their consequence. I’ve started by infiltrating every level of your administration and flooding the streets with drugs and weapons. The people of this city are already starting to show the worst of themselves, and I will corrupt them even further by destroying their image of you, their supposed saviour. From there, they will continue to watch as everything which they thought good will crumble, and they will have no choice but to embrace the darkness within. They will begin to destroy their own city in bloodlust and the world will watch as its greatest city, its symbol of hope… will vanish, being destroyed in a haze.”

“You’re insane,” muttered Oliver.

“Insanity is the only sane reaction to an insane society, Mr Queen. Now, unfortunately for you, Oliver, you’re not going to die quickly. You will die a slow death… just like your city.”

As Azrael finished his words, the van came to an abrupt stop. The van doors opened, and Oliver groaned as Azrael dragged his body out of the van. With his eyesight blurry, and the pain overwhelming his senses, he could barely make out his surroundings. He made out a couple of headlights and a camera tripod, along with the water surrounding them. They were on a pier…

He was tossed by Azrael to two of his masked agents. One held him up while another placed chains around his ankles. At the end of the chains were large weights. They were going to drop him into the water…

Azrael masked himself too before standing in front of the camera.

“Star City…” he began, “I take it that you know who this man is… of course you do. It’s Oliver Queen. Your saviour. A hero. The man who saved this city. Actually, you’re wrong. This is Oliver Queen, yes, but he’s not a hero. He’s a criminal. A coward. Oliver Queen did not save this city… he failed it…

“Twelve years ago, Moira Queen stepped in front of a camera and confessed to her involvement in The Undertaking, but did you know that Oliver Queen knew about her involvement for months prior, and yet didn’t warn the public? Then a year after that, an army of Mirakuru soldiers led by Slade Wilson terrorised this city. Do you know why? Because Oliver Queen had attempted to murder Slade Wilson while they were stranded on Lian Yu together. ‘But wasn’t Oliver Queen alone for five years?’, you might be thinking. He wasn’t. In fact, Oliver Queen didn’t even spend five years on Lian Yu. He spent a year in Russia, where he became a Bratva Captain. That puts into perspective why the Bratva tried to assassinate Adrian Chase several years ago, because it was Oliver Queen who ordered them to do so. You see, what Oliver Queen does best… is lie. He lies about everything. He lied about his years on Lian Yu, he lied about not knowing about The Undertaking, and he lies when he preaches to you that he is a loving father, when in reality, he had paid Samantha Clayton a substantial amount of money to abort their child many years prior, something which she obviously could not bring herself to do.

“Now of course, you might think that I’m the one who is lying? Well then, deny it,” requested Azrael as he turned to face Oliver, “Deny it!” he screamed at Oliver.

Azrael may have been distorting the truth to villainise Oliver, but in the end, he was right. Slade had come to Star City because of him. He had lied about his years on the island, and many other things. Even if he had wanted to deny it, he couldn’t. All of his strength had been sapped from his body. Simply taking a breath caused him agony, and consequentially he was unable to articulate any words.

“Star City, it is obvious at this point that this man is no hero. He is no saviour. He is no better than the criminals he has helped lock up in Iron Heights and Slabside Penitentiary. _Oliver Queen is a liar and a murderer_ , and this city would be a better place without him,” said Azrael, as he swiftly turned around, before drawing his pistol and firing two bullets into Oliver’s abdomen, and one to his chest. The impacts of the bullets sent him falling back into the water, and Azrael moved to the edge of the pier to watch Oliver Queen’s body sink to the bottom of the ocean.

* * *

There was no energy left in his body. Each of his four limbs ached from the bruises and broken bones, and the three bullet holes were seeping blood into the water which was then starting to fill up in his lungs while he sunk further and further to the seabed. Oliver Queen could no longer fight his death. At least, the death of his body. From the moment he stepped on to the shores of Lian Yu in 2007, he had begun to lose pieces of his soul. His body had endured, but his mind had already died countless deaths.

Even now, after all these years, he was not at peace. He was set to die here while his city would burn. This time, it was he who had failed the city. He took solace in the fact that his loved ones would probably still live. Surely, Thea and Roy would leave the city for the sake of their child, as would Diggle for the sake of JJ and Zoe. William would continue his studies at Caltech and go on to live a prosperous life.

His body hit the floor of the ocean bed, with the lights above the water now faint. His lungs were filled with water and he had lost an exorbitant amount of blood. In his final moments, his mind brought to the fore many of his fondest memories. The dearest moments he had shared with his loved ones, playing back before him. The flashes of the people he held closest to his heart. First, those still living, Thea, William, Diggle, Roy, Quentin, Barry and then those who he was about to join, Shado, Tommy, Robert, Moira, Laurel, Felicity.

The last person on his mind surprised him the most. A flash of Kara, almost as if she right in front of him. Why was that? He didn’t know, but what he did know was that his death was unavoidable. His mind called back to Kara’s ominous warning of Nia’s dream. It turns out she was right. It was poetic in a way. He was meant to die at the bottom of the ocean after the Gambit went down, and now he truly was at the bottom of the ocean. This was his destiny, and all he could do was accept it, as he closed his eyes and laid his mind to rest.


	22. Chapter 22

_Drowning. Each gasp for air only propels more water into your throat, as the horrifying feeling of your oesophagus filling up with water overrides all five of your senses._

And then suddenly, he could breathe. The respirations were heavy and loud due to a ventilator attached to his face. Oliver’s vision was blurry as he slowly opened his eyes. Unable to make out his surroundings, he tried to sit up only to be immobilised by the intense pain that the action caused. His groan prompted movement on his right. With his eyesight still murky, he could not recognise the slender figure seated next to his bed. The pain in his left cheek caused him to infer that his left eye was swollen due to a broken orbital bone. The figure’s words were hazy and unintelligible at first, taking a few seconds to become clearer.

_“Ollie… Guys, he’s awake!..._ Ollie!”

The figure finally became recognisable. Thea. Moments later, several more people entered the room. Diggle, Roy, Quentin, William and then surprisingly, Zoe.

“Ollie… Ollie, can you hear me?” asked Thea, extremely concerned for his wellbeing.

Diggle, noticing that Oliver was still groggy, begrudgingly placed his hand on her shoulder and gently tugged. “Let’s give him a little bit of space,” he requested, and Thea obliged. A worrying silence resonated across the room as they all waited for Oliver to say something. Eventually, Oliver became accustomed to his laboured breathing and was able to speak.

“What’s going on?” he said faintly.

“What’s the last thing that you remember?” asked Diggle.

“I… I was…” stumbled Oliver, as he tried to voice his recollections. “I was drowning… fighting…”

“Fighting Azrael?” asked Diggle. Portions of the fight slowly came back to Oliver.

“Yeah,” he replied. His memory was like a broken puzzle at the moment, with each piece coming back to him episodically, not chronologically. It all felt like a bad dream that he was just waking up from. “He shot me,” said Oliver.

“Then he dropped you into the ocean,” added Diggle.

“What happened after?” asked Oliver.

“Kara pulled you out of the water. She saved you,” replied Diggle.

“Kara? Where am I?” asked Oliver, as he still hadn’t been able to make out the room. He was aware that he was on a bed now, and noticed the heart rate monitor and IV drips standing next to it.

“The Queen Mansion,” replied Thea.

“We have ARGUS agents all over the place. We’re safe here,” said Diggle reassuringly. “I know you probably have a lot of questions, but I think you should get some rest first. I’ll give you the run-down of everything later,” said Diggle. Oliver nodded as they all left the room. The curtains were closed to block the harsh midday light, and the room was too dull for Oliver to make out where in the Queen Mansion he exactly was. His abdomen was twisted, his left arm was in a sling and his face ached with every word he spoke or expression he made. Certain parts of his body were completely numb while others were aching. Going to sleep was going to be a problem, but he tried his best to get comfortable before closing his eyes.

* * *

Lyla Michaels took a long sip from a large mug of coffee while sitting in her office at the ARGUS Headquarters. The past 72 hours had been extraordinarily stressful, and she had only managed 10 hours of sleep throughout. To the world, Oliver Queen was dead. Executed on live television by a mysterious unidentified figure. Only did she, Oliver’s closest friends and family and a handful of her most trusted agents know that he was still alive. Amidst dealing with this, Lyla also had to handle several other unrelated international incidents which had occurred at the same time. As far as she knew, Oliver’s condition hadn’t changed. He was still unconscious, and she hadn’t read the message from Diggle stating that he’d woken up. She was focused on the person she was supposed to be meeting now.

A couple of minutes later, she arrived, entering Lyla’s office with a dejected look on her face. “Director Michaels…” Her words trailed off as Lyla interrupted her.

“Agent Dearden, I’m going to be the one talking. Not you,” she replied sternly, as she stood up while Mia meekly took a seat on a chair in front of her desk. “Agent Dearden, please take a look at this,” she ordered, as she handed Mia a dossier.

Mia opened it, and immediately saw the case files that she’d pulled from the SCPD database. Inside was also the location of the Papp Hotel and the load plans of Starling Port cargo ships.

“Does any of that look familiar to you? We found that when we raided the Green Arrow’s lair,” said Lyla, lying to protect Oliver’s identity. “As well as this,” she said, as she dropped a phone on the table, “With a call log which showed several calls made to your number.”

Mia found herself unable to reply, avoiding eye contact with Lyla as she was scolded.

“What were you thinking, Mia?! Providing sensitive information to an unauthorised vigilante whose identity you had no reasonable way of verifying. This very well could have been a terrorist with a voice modulator.”

“I know,” said Mia softly.

“And you do know that you could be disavowed for such reckless actions?”

“That won’t be necessary,” replied Mia softly once again.

“Why not?” asked Lyla.

“Because I’m resigning,” said Mia somberly, as she placed an envelope on the table. Lyla didn’t even bother looking at the resignation letter.

“Agent Dearden, I am not…” She was interrupted by Mia.

“Director Michaels, with all due respect, I know the real reason why you’re mad at me. It’s not because I helped the Green Arrow. It’s because he’s dead because of it.”

“What are you talking about, Mia?” said Lyla.

“I know, Director Michaels. I know it’s him. Well, I knew it _was_ him, and I still chose to help him… and now he’s dead because of it,” said Mia, as she wiped the tears starting to form in her eyes.

“Mia, you are not responsible for Oliver’s death,” said Lyla sternly. She would have reprimanded Mia for her actions even if they didn’t involve Oliver, but she never had the intention of disavowing her. Nor was she going to let Mia blame herself over this.

“I am, and I can’t continue to work here knowing that. I am truly sorry for your loss, Director.” She turned to leave the office, walking towards the door.

“Mia!” called out Lyla.

“You can’t convince me to stay,” she said, becoming slightly alarmed as she saw Lyla pacing towards her.

Lyla couldn’t believe what she was about to say, but she knew that Mia had a personal connection to Oliver, and she was not going to let her throw away her promising career because of a false sense of guilt. “Mia… Oliver is still alive.”

“What?”

“We managed to save him. We’re keeping it quiet for his safety.”

“He’s alive?” asked Mia, still in disbelief.

“Yes, Mia, he is. Nobody can know about this, Mia. Do you understand me? Nobody.”

“Yes, yes” stuttered Mia. “Can I see him?”

* * *

Kara Zor-El hovered in the clouds above National City with her eyes closed, intently using her super-hearing in an attempt to listen for any crimes happening or being plotted, but National City was quiet today. She’d stopped a couple of petty thieves earlier in the day, and perhaps that was enough reason for the other criminals to take the day off. After realising that nothing else was probably going to happen today, she flew back to her apartment.

She chose not to go to CatCo, finding herself unproductive the previous two days when she was there. Even though Oliver had been resuscitated and was now recovering, it was impossible for her to stop worrying about him. As a hero, she’d been forced to see many disturbing things, but the sight of Oliver when she found him was truly ghastly. His bruised and bloodied face, the welts forming by his abdomen and the bullet wounds that shredded his skin. That image of him was burnt into her brain, along with the one of the DEO doctors surrounding him and frantically scrambling to save his life.

Now, he was in a coma, and Kara had idea when he would wake up. If he ever would… The brain scans showed no signs of traumatic brain injury, but the possibility of one couldn’t be ruled out.

Attempting to at least do something productive, she opened one of her closets and took out a box of junk which she’d stuffed there long ago. One by one, she took out items from the box, deciding if they were of any use to her and whether or not she’d keep or discard them. Halfway through the task, she found an old picture frame with a drawing in it, and she couldn’t help but crack a small smile as she looked at it.

It was a sketch of her that Oliver had drawn on one of their first few dates many years ago, showing her hovering above National City while a cat sat in the foreground, looking up at her. He’d suggested that they draw something together, inspired by the movie Vanilla Sky. She hadn’t the heart to discard it when they ended things, and she didn’t either now. She closed her eyes as she thought back to that pleasant night…

* * *

_Neither of them rushed their sketches, but Kara used her superspeed, resulting in her finishing before Oliver._

_“Done,” she said._

_“Give me a moment,” requested Oliver, “Just a reminder: Superspeed…”_

_“You don’t have it,” said Kara, finishing his words. Oliver was done a few seconds later. “Let me see,” said Kara._

_Oliver handed her his sketch, and she was quite delighted at the eloquent drawing. It was her in her Supergirl suit, hovering in the sky with a heroic pose. He drew her beautifully, with her hair and cape blowing in the wind. The foreground stood out to her, as it showed a cat sitting on a porch, looking up at her._

_“This is awesome,” said Kara, “The cat?” she asked._

_“Inspired by Streaky,” replied Oliver. “When you told me your story about how you felt human for the first time when you petted him, it was very heartwarming and it stuck with me.”_

_“This is very touching. Thank you,” said Kara, as she continued to gaze at the drawing. She absolutely adored it. “Can I keep it? I think I’m going to frame it..”_

_“Sure.”_

* * *

Kara was snapped out of her recollection by the sound of her phone buzzing. It wasn’t her regular phone, but rather the one specifically designed by Cisco for better communication to Earth-1. It was a message from Thea, telling her that Oliver had woken up.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azrael's identity and past is finally uncovered.

The next time Oliver woke up, he was in a far greater presence of mind than previously. His head still ached, but his mind had pieced everything back together and now it all made sense to him. He remembered tracking Azrael to the subway, fighting him and then being dumped into the ocean. He couldn’t quite recall precisely what Azrael had said. Neither of his monologues were very clear to him, but one of Azrael’s phrases kept ringing in his head. _Oliver Queen is a liar and a murderer._

Oliver was parched. He swivelled his tongue around his mouth, feeling the spots on his gums where he had been cut. The lack of saliva coupled with dry blood and morning breath created an unpleasant taste in his mouth, and his desire to quench his thirst was intensified as he sought to wash the taste away. He peered over to his right, spotting a water bottle placed on the bedside. He slowly lifted his right arm to reach for it, but agonisingly found it just out of his reach. He attempted to shift his body towards it, but only succeeded in aggravating his pain. His groan caught the attention of someone seated on the far right of the room who he hadn’t seen there previously. She rose from her chair and hastily walked over.

“Oliver,” she said concernedly. Oliver had to squint his vision to recognise her. Kara. She grabbed the water bottle, before removing the ventilator from his face and placing the bottle to his lips. “Here.”

She tipped it forward slightly to let him drink. “Thank you,” said Oliver once he had finished.

“How are you feeling?” asked another voice, as Oliver looked to see Thea next to Kara.

“Better,” he replied succinctly.

“I’m going to go get Dig,” said Kara, leaving the room. She returned a minute later with not just Diggle, but with Barry too, each of them with a look on their face as if they were paying respects to a dead body.

“So what happened?” asked Oliver.

Diggle sighed before explaining. “I came down to the lair to apologise for what I said. When I got there, you were gone, and then the broadcast started. I knew I couldn’t get there in time so I called Barry.”

“I got close to Star City, but then my powers just gave out,” interjected Barry. “I didn’t know what it was, it was just as soon as I hit the city, I lost my speed but it’s back now.”

“We think Azrael may have placed meta dampeners around the city,” explained Diggle. “When Barry couldn’t get there either, I thought quickly and called Kara. She found you on the seabed and pulled you out of there. We went to the DEO on Earth-38, and that’s where they patched you up. They kept you there for two days, and then we brought you here.”

“I’ve been out for two days?” asked Oliver, shocked by the revelation.

“Four now,” corrected Diggle. “You were banged up bad, man. Three broken ribs, broken orbital, mild concussion, hairline jaw fracture, torn knee meniscus and a dislocated shoulder. You’re lucky that you didn’t need surgery for anything. Never mind all of that, you were declared dead on arrival at the DEO. Luckily, the doctors managed to resuscitate you.”

“Where’s everyone else?” he asked.

“Having dinner downstairs. Like I said, we’re all staying here as a precaution. Roy, Thea, Quentin, William too. We just didn’t know what Azrael’s next move was going to be.”

Oliver assumed that Diggle meant everyone besides Barry and Kara. “Anything new on Azrael?”

“I did a scan of the city, but I couldn’t find him. Either he’s no longer there, or he’s really good at hiding,” replied Kara.

“ARGUS raided the subway too, and the place was empty,” added Diggle.

“What about his identity?” asked Oliver.

“Nothing. Which is why I thought I’d call someone who might know a bit more.”

“Who?“ Oliver question received its answer immediately due to perfect timing, as Sara Lance entered the room just then. Her shocked face as she saw him was no surprise to Oliver, who chose to answer the question on her mind before she asked it.

“I’m fine. It looks worse than it is,” said Oliver, even though he knew the opposite was true.

“You are so insanely stupid for going after Azrael by yourself,” she said bluntly, but with care.

“Do you know who he is?” asked Oliver. From the look on her face, they could tell that she did.

* * *

“Alexander Zugravescu.”

Sara said his name with a combination of fear, disgust and yet, respect. Everybody in the mansion was present at the moment, with the large room providing enough space for all of them to be present. Sara and Quentin shared a couch on the far right of the room, while William and Zoe shared the one opposite them. Diggle, Roy and Barry occupied the nearby vicinity on chairs and Thea and Kara were still by Oliver’s side.

“That’s his real name. He’s an anarchist, extremist, terrorist, whatever you want to call it. Just the worst of the worst. It’s like he has ice in his veins.”

“Where’s he from?” asked Diggle.

“He was born in Armenia. I don’t know exactly when but what I do know is that he didn’t have the best upbringing. He was caught up in the middle of the Nagorno-Karabakh War, and was forced to make his first kill when he was only 8. An Azerbaijani soldier broke into his home and murdered his father before trying to rape his mother. In retaliation, he stabbed the soldier to death. A short while later, he and his mother fled to London, but the damage was already done. His hellish upbringing fractured his psyche, and he developed an itch which could only be scratched by taking another man’s life, an insatiable lust for violence. The only path for him was to join the British Army straight out of school. He served two tours in Iraq and one in Afghanistan before he was court-martialed for executing POWs and local villagers who he suspected were giving intel to the Taliban. Disillusioned with being a soldier, he dropped off the grid completely, and became a mercenary for hire.”

“Who took him to Nanda Parbat?” asked Oliver. Sara took a sip of her beer before replying.

“I did,” she said regrettably. “It was one of my first missions for the League. Ra’s sent me on a detail to capture him and bring him to Nanda Parbat alive.”

“Why?” asked Thea. “What did Ra’s want from him?”

“Even before he joined the League, he was a formidable fighter. As a merc, he crossed paths with the League on several occasions. He killed five members of the League, and Ra’s wanted to meet the man who was constantly besting his students.”

“And then he ended up joining the League,” added Diggle.

“He was wounded when we found him, barely alive by the time we got to Nanda Parbat. Ra’s knew better than to let him die, so he healed his injuries using the Lazarus Pit and demanded that Zugravescu join the League to pay off the debt of his life. He obliged, and because of his skills, Ra’s respected him enough to give him the name ‘Azrael’, and he became one of Ra’s’ most skilled and trusted lieutenants.”

“Why was he released?” asked Diggle.

“Azrael was in Star City the night of The Siege,” replied Sara, the revelation surprising everyone in the room. “He never planned on staying in the League forever, and he saw The Siege as his way out. He took a blood sample from a Mirakuru soldier before the soldier was hit with the cure. He gave the blood sample to Ra’s as a token to ask for his release, which Ra’s granted. Nyssa and I managed to catch wind of this and figured that Ra’s should not have something like the Mirakuru in his possession. We managed to destroy the blood sample and cover our tracks, but Ra’s still never fully trusted me after that. As soon as Azrael was released, he formed Cobalt with the intention of tearing down the system that created him, and consequentially now has the blood of thousands on his hands.”

The stunned silence across the room was broken several moments later when Kara finally decided to speak up.

“What a truly despicable man,” she said, her voice full of disgust.

“I don’t think ‘despicable’ quite covers it,” quipped Barry.

“Can you at least now see how stupid you were to go after him alone?” said Sara angrily to Oliver.

“Hey, hey, come on Sara. Let’s not kick the man while he’s down, alright?” said Quentin, reprimanding her while she shrugged her shoulders.

With Sara having divulged all the information she had on Azrael, she left and soon after the others followed suit. It was starting to get late, and the others retreated to their new rooms. Barry returned to Central City, but Kara hadn’t moved at all.

“Don’t you need to go back to Earth-38?” asked Oliver.

She shook her head. “They don’t need me there right now. I’d rather be here for you.”

“Thank you,” he said endearingly, drawing a heart-warming smile from her. She turned off the bedside lamp and Oliver closed his eyes as he attempted to go to sleep. As soon as he did, the words started echoing in his head again…

_Oliver Queen is a liar and a murderer._


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia finally gets the chance to meet Oliver again after 12 years.

Oliver’s sleep was far from peaceful or comfortable but he still preferred it to being awake. The universally-recognised feeling of hating to wake up and return to reality after being asleep was multiplied by a hundred for him. In his sleep was the only place where the pain was absent. The only unaffected part of his body seemed to be his right arm. The pain was the worst in his midsection, where the broken ribs and bullet wounds throbbed regularly. The room was still dull, but Oliver could tell from the rays of light creeping through the curtains that it was at least morning.

“Good morning,” said Thea next to him.

“Morning,” replied Oliver. “What time is it?”

“10:45,” she replied. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” Oliver preferred to speak in as little words as possible. The broken orbital and fractured jaw prevented prolonged speech. Thea wheeled herself to the curtains and opened the right sheet slightly to allow for more light into the room. She returned to Oliver’s side and he curiously watched as she mixed two liquids in a small bowl on the bedside. He turned his head slightly to see what she was preparing, and could just make out the two bottles. One of mouthwash, the other just water. She placed a toothbrush in the bowl and swivelled it around for a few seconds before turning back to Oliver and holding it in front of his mouth. The frown on his face forced Thea to convince him to cooperate.

“Come on, Ollie. You still need to-“ He interrupted her.

“I can do it myself,” he said stubbornly, as he lifted his right arm to grab the toothbrush. Every action caused pain, and even though his arm was unaffected, pain flared by his right ribcage where the breaks had occurred. It was only when his hand was in his eyeline that he realised it was trembling. She was reluctant to place the brush in his quivering hand, but eventually conceded. “No toothpaste?” he asked.

“Not yet. Only when you can sit up and spit without making a mess. The mouthwash solution will do the job for now.” With Thea bearing over him like a mother supervising her toddler, Oliver opened his mouth just enough to allow the brush through and gently began scrubbing his teeth. He didn’t know if they were brushing his teeth while he was unconscious, but nonetheless, his breath reeked. The diluted alcoholic taste of the mouthwash was refreshing in a way. He brushed gently for a few minutes, making sure to scrub his tongue too before he handed the brush back to Thea.

“How are you?” asked Oliver. “I mean, with the baby. The pregnancy.”

“Oh. Well, I’m in the second trimester now, which they say is the ‘honeymoon period’ for pregnancy. So I’m feeling a bit better. Less morning sickness and a bit more energy,” she replied.

“Second trimester?” questioned Oliver.

“Yeah, nearly four months along.” Oliver hadn’t been aware of just how much time had passed. When Thea had told him, she said she was three months along. This meant his birthday was over a month ago. He’d been so caught up with his crusade that time had flown far faster than he’d realised.

“Do you know the… uhh…” Oliver paused temporarily as his jaw and face started cramping.

“The baby’s sex?” asked Thea, finishing his words for him. He nodded. “No, not yet. We were actually going to go for an ultrasound but then… this happened.”

The cramps had relaxed enough for Oliver to reply. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words being all he could muster.

“You don’t have to apologise, Ollie,” said Thea dismissively. “Breakfast?” she asked.

“Yes please.”

“Sure, I’ll just…” Thea’s words were cut short when there was an audible gush by the door. Courtesy of superhearing and superspeed, Kara arrived with a tray full of items. “Oh, ok, nevermind.”

“Actually, this is for you,” said Kara, as he handed Thea a plate of three pancakes drizzled with syrup. “You still haven’t had breakfast and you know you need to be eating,” said Kara tenderly.

“Thank you,” said Thea with a smile as she took the plate. The bowl and small flask that remained on the tray were for Oliver.

“No pancakes for me?” he joked.

Kara replied as she took a seat next to the bed. “You can’t chew, remember?” she said. Oliver acknowledged her words as true with a slight nod as he watched her take the bowl and stir its contents, amusing Oliver and Thea as she used her heat vision to warm the contents up slightly. While unconscious, he was being fed nutrients and medication via IV, but Oliver accurately felt as if he hadn’t had a proper meal in days.

When Kara raised the spoonful of porridge to his mouth, he considered rebuking her as he had just done with Thea. She saw the protest on his face, and replied with her own expression that told him that this was how it had to be for now. It was impossible for Oliver’s pride to not take a massive hit. He had to be fed like a baby, but at the same time knew that he couldn’t feed himself with his injuries. He spared a thought for how Thea and Kara felt, with the experience likely being just as awkward and hard for them. He decided not to make it any more difficult for them and begrudgingly opened his mouth.

The porridge was runnier than he’d have liked, with Kara having understandably made it more watery to accommodate for Oliver’s inability to chew. He welcomed the feeling of substance into his mouth anyway, and once the contents of the small bowl were finished, she handed him the flask to his surprise. It didn’t take a genius to note that his ego was severely bruised, so the closed flask was likely meant to restore a little bit of pride. He could hold it without fear of it spilling, and there was a built-in straw which he could use to drink its contents.

“It’s tea,” said Kara, as she handed it to him. He sucked on the straw, taking in the brew. He could tell that it was sweetened with honey, not sugar, and recognised the slight zest of lemon tickling his tastebuds too. The combination of the two brought relief to his coarse throat, and he sipped frequently until it was finished. He requested more, and it was brought to him within a matter of seconds. The advantages of having a friend with superspeed.

Thea eventually left the room, but William joined soon thereafter. He explained the new circumstances to Oliver. Only Diggle and Lyla were allowed to leave the house and at that, only to go to ARGUS headquarters with an armed escort. The agents stationed at the estate were to go grocery shopping for whatever items they needed, and Raisa and only two other housekeepers were there to help take care of the mansion. Despite work to turn the mansion into an orphanage having been done already, Barry and Kara used their superspeed to quickly make the place livable for them once again. Oliver asked for an update on the situation in the city and was shocked to hear that Quentin had been impeached from office. City Council had impeached him in an expeditious process, off the basis of negligence and stolen funds. Of course the claims were fabricated, but Quentin had no chance of fighting them anyway.

Jack Major was working with Azrael, which now officially meant that they had practically no hold on the city administratively. When Oliver asked about what ARGUS were doing, he received a vague reply stating that they were doing their best, which meant that things were probably as bad as ever.

* * *

When Mia Dearden arrived at the gates of the former Queen Estate, she marvelled at the beauty of the grounds of the place as she stared out the window of the car from the passenger seat. Her heart was beating fast and heavy while her leg was tapping uncontrollably out of anxiety. The tapping had become distinct enough for Lyla at the wheel of the car to turn to her and tell her she had nothing to worry about. Her words would be reassuring if they were true. Mia truly had no idea what to expect from anyone. Oliver probably wouldn’t be too happy to find out she knew his secret, and his family probably weren’t going to be welcoming to the woman who helped put him in the situation he was currently in.

 _Everything is going to be fine,_ she said to herself in her head. She repeated the phrase more times than she could count, hoping that the more she said it, the more it was going to become a reality. Still, her mouth was dry by the time they reached the front door. She had no idea what had come over when she had said that she wanted to see Oliver. Right now, there was no other place she’d rather not be. She couldn’t back out now, so she bit the bullet and exited the car with Lyla. Lyla went first and Mia found herself almost hiding behind her boss as she entered the mansion. The interior was in a way just as beautiful as the grounds that surrounded it. There was a bare circular table at the center, which she moved around as she followed Lyla’s lead to the staircase on the left.

Just as they were about to ascend, footsteps thudded from behind them with an accompanying voice. “Oh, Lyla, it’s just…” Roy Harper paused for a second as he saw Mia, “… you.”

“Yeah. Why? What’s wrong?” asked Lyla.

“No, I just heard someone enter and came to check who it was,” he replied, as he and Mia exchanged glances. Mia’s mouth was practically gaping open as she looked at Roy. He seemed confused and curious, but the most telling expression on his face was recognition, being displayed by his small smirk as he looked at Mia.

“Roy, this is Mia Dearden. She’s one of my agents who’s here to see Oliver,” said Lyla, introducing them even though they needed no introduction.

“Yeah, we’ve met before,” said Roy as he approached Mia, holding out his hand for her to shake.

“What?” said Lyla in surprise.

“Middle of the night in The Glades, Whittaker Avenue…” said Roy, recalling the road that he and Mia were walking on when they encountered each other on that night 11 years ago.

“You were the guy in the red hood who offered to help me get home safe,” said Mia, as she remembered and shook his hand.

“Yeah. You called me a creep. Remember that?” said Roy jokingly.

“No, I didn’t,” protested Mia.

“Yeah, you definitely did,” persisted Roy, annoying Mia. “You work for ARGUS now?” he asked, astonished.

“Yeah. Things worked out for me.”

“I can see. So, what are you here to see Oliver for?” asked Roy. Mia didn’t know how to reply, so Lyla quickly chimed in.

“I’ll explain it to you later, Roy. It’s a bit of a long story,” she said.

“Oh, ok, sure.” Roy returned to the living room while Mia followed Lyla to Oliver’s room. The mansion was huge, and Mia was awestruck by the number of rooms in the place. It took them a bit longer than expected to arrive at the supposed room, and Mia found her heart beating as fast as it ever had in her short lifetime, feeling as if it was going to explode out of her chest at any moment. She froze in her footsteps as she neared the open door, with Lyla having to calm her once again to get to her to enter. She’d always hoped that she would one day be able to see Oliver Queen again and thank him for how he’d changed her life, but she never expected it to be as difficult as it was right now.

She took a deep breath in, reminding herself that this was what she always wanted, before finally stepping foot into the room. There were three individuals there barring herself and Lyla. A young man with a neat scissor-cut hairstyle to the right side of the bed, and a beautiful blonde woman who didn’t look much older than Mia herself on the left. They both turned their heads to look at them, recognising Lyla but being puzzled at Mia’s presence. On the bed in the middle of the room was Oliver Queen. Mia found it hard to not cringe at the state he was in, bedridden and beaten to the point where he was almost unrecognisable. He too turned his head to look at Mia, but had no visible reaction as he didn’t recognise her.

“Lyla. Who’s your friend?” asked the blonde woman.

“Kara, this is Mia Dearden.” With the mention of her name, Mia could see Oliver’s stupefied reaction. What surprised her was a similar reaction from Kara, albeit more concealed. “She’s one of my agents, here to see Oliver.”

“Mia Dearden,” said the blonde woman, with a hint of recognition in her voice. She rose from her chair and offered her hand to her. “Kara Danvers. I’m an old friend of Oliver’s,” she said, smiling warmly.

The young man had rose too and greeted Mia as well. “William. He’s my dad.”

Lyla took Kara and William with her out of the room as she left Mia to be alone with Oliver. Her nerves hadn’t subsided as she slowly stepped towards the bed. He was astonished at the sight of her to say the least, not just because she was here, but perhaps because the last time he’d seen her, she was a 13-year-old girl. She wouldn’t say she’d changed all that much in appearance, but her maturation was still evident. She took a seat beside the bed.

“Hi.” The short greeting being all she managed to say.

“Hi,” he replied. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

“Just the one, for now. Why?” she asked. “Why did you go out of your way help me all those years ago?”

“You were in danger, and…” She interrupted him.

“No, not that. After you saved me, you helped set me up with a family that would take care of me, and I’m sure Lyla recruited me into ARGUS because you told her about me. Why?”

“You reminded me of my sister. When I saw you at Davenport’s warehouse, I envisioned my sister in the same scenario and I knew I wouldn’t want that for her. Then, I orphaned you…”

“My biological father was a scumbag who deserved to die.”

“I know, but your mother died of a Vertigo overdose because I didn’t get to The Count sooner. I had to right that wrong, and make sure you got to live the life that you deserved.”

“I never got to say thank you for doing that.”

“You didn’t have to, and you still don’t.”

“No, I do. You didn’t just save my life, you changed it. You helped give me everything I needed and more. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t have found a loving family and lived up to my true potential. I truly don’t have enough words to tell you how grateful I am for everything that you’ve done for me.” Her heartfelt words managed to bring a smile to Oliver’s face.

“When did you find out?” he asked. She caught on that he was referring to his secret identity.

“I don’t know exactly, to be honest. When I found out you paid for my treatment at the hospital, that’s when I started having suspicions. I guess I need to apologise too.”

“What for?” asked Oliver, confused.

“For helping you. I know it sounds extremely weird, but maybe if I hadn’t helped you, you wouldn’t be like this right now. I should have known it wasn’t going to end well for you.”

“No, Mia, you did the right thing. If you hadn’t helped me, ARGUS wouldn’t have found out that Cobalt is in Star City.”

“Are they the ones who did this to you?” asked Mia.

“Their leader, Azrael,” replied Oliver.

“Don’t worry, ARGUS is going to stop them,” she said sternly, with Oliver not having the heart to tell her that it may be too late for that by now.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia offers to be a caretaker for Oliver, and Kara and Oliver have a candid conversation about their future.

There were few occasions which Mia could recall that brought her as much elation as she was feeling right now. After nearly 12 years, she had finally been able to meet Oliver Queen and thank him for changing her life. She wished it could have happened under better circumstances but she was grateful nonetheless. When she eventually left the room after conversing with Oliver, she found herself back at the reception area of the mansion where Lyla pulled her into the living room to meet the others.

She’d already met Kara, William and Roy, and was just as politely greeted by Zoe Ramirez, Thea Queen, Quentin Lance and John Diggle. Lyla had explained to them the circumstances of her and Oliver’s acquaintanceship, and also how she had helped Oliver recently because of it. Thankfully, they weren’t upset or angry with her in the least, which was a huge relief for her. Thea had even offered for her to stay for dinner. Mia was initially reluctant to accept, but she eventually decided to accept the courteous offer. As she was seated at the mahogany dining table, she still couldn’t help but admire the luxuriousness of the room around her. The fire was lit behind Thea at the head of the table, creating a warmth which reflected their hospitality to her. The simple dinner of chicken breast and greens was scrumptious, and she dug in while they all conversed.

“We need to talk about Oliver,” said Thea. “He needs someone to help take care of him. A full-time caregiver.”

“I’m here for him for as long as he needs me,” said Kara.

“You’ve been a great help Kara, but we don’t know how long it’s going to take for him to recover and it’s not fair for you to stay here forever. Raisa’s been helping during the day but he needs someone who can be there 24/7.”

“I can help.”

Suddenly, all the eyes in the room were on her, as Mia didn’t know what compelled her to say those words. They jumped out of her mouth before any sort of thought process could occur and she was not surprised to see every other person in the room stunned.

“I appreciate the offer Mia, but you really don’t have to,” replied Thea, still stunned by her suggestion. “Don’t you need to go back to Seattle?”

“I can easily set up a station here to do any work that Director Michaels needs from me. For all that Oliver has done for me, taking care of him for a while is the least I can do to repay him. I’ll just need to go back to Seattle to get some stuff and then I can be back here tomorrow. If that’s okay with Director Michaels and you, of course.”

It was no surprise that Thea didn’t know exactly what to make of the proposition at first, but Mia was sincere and trustworthy, evidenced by the fact that Lyla brought her here in the first place. Lyla turned to the others to gauge their thoughts, and they all seemed to approve of the suggestion.

“It’s all up to you, Thea,” said Lyla.

“Well, I guess it’s settled then,” replied Thea with a warm smile to Mia.

* * *

_“Oliver Queen is a liar, and a murderer.”_

_The words started off faint, the first time almost inaudible, but then they got louder._

_“Oliver Queen is a liar, and a murderer. Oliver Queen is a liar, and a murderer!”_

_Louder and louder each time as the phrase repeatedly echoed until three bullets blasted through him and he fell back._

Oliver’s body tremored as he abruptly woke up from his nightmare, breathing erratically. In an instant, the dull bedside lamp was switched on and Oliver felt a hand gently hug his face.

“Oliver? Oliver?” Kara’s voice called out tenderly. Her touch was reassuring and calming, as was her soft voice. Oliver’s mouth had dried out again, and he requested for her to give him water. She lifted her hand from his face to grab the bottle and tipped it to his mouth as she had done earlier.

“Thank you,” he said, once he’d quenched his thirst. Mia had since left following dinner, and unlike the others, Oliver wasn’t surprised to hear that she was willing to take care of him. He didn’t expect her to do so, but if she was the type of person that he thought she was, then it was definitely something that she would do.

He turned his full attention to Kara, studying her face. He couldn’t help but notice how sullen and upset she looked. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I hate seeing you like this,” she said.

“Hurt?”

“Broken.” Her sorrowful description of Oliver caught him off guard.

“I was always broken, Kara. You just never saw it before.”

“Not like this, Oliver. Not like this…” She spoke with such care in her voice, so much so that it was audible how hard his near-death was hitting her. “I didn’t want to bring this up before, but I told you that this would happen. Nia was right.”

“I didn’t die, Kara,” replied Oliver, attempting to correct her. She replied quickly, having none of it.

“But every time I look into your eyes, it’s like I see nothing behind them.” She waited for his reply, but he had none. “What were you thinking going after Azrael by yourself? Were you even thinking?”

“I had to stop him. He’s destroying my city.”

“You didn’t have to do it alone. It’s like you had a death wish.”

“I didn’t.”

“But that’s what it seems like. Did you not stop and think what it would do to William and Thea if you died? What it would do to… what it would do to me?”

_Why would it affect her_ , Oliver asked himself, even though he already knew the answer. “I’m not in your life anymore.”

“But I still want you to be,” she said with distress in her voice. “Oliver, I still lo-” He cut her short.

“Don’t. Please, don’t say it.” He knew the words would stir up a variety of emotions which he didn’t want to feel right now. “We can’t be together, Kara.”

“I can’t just accept that, Oliver. Tell me you don’t love me anymore… Tell me you don’t love me anymore and then I will.” He couldn’t push himself to say it. He tried to, but he couldn’t compel the words out of his throat, simply because of the fact that they weren’t true.

“Say it, Ollie. Say it.” She was pleading with him, and had to wipe the tears that were forming by her eyes. He felt his eyes turn watery too, as the droplets began to run down the side of his face.

“I still love you, Oliver,” she said, as she let the tears run down her cheeks while she placed her hand gently on the side of his face once again. He agonisingly brought his right hand up to pull hers away.

“Kara, I am a liar and a murderer. You deserve better than me. You deserve someone who will give you everything. Someone who is going to be with you forever.”

“Oliver, I…” He interrupted her again.

“No, Kara.”

“We can make it work, Ollie,” she said desperately.

“No, Kara… No… No…”

Neither of them could speak after that. She clasped her hand around his, and couldn’t let go. Nor did he try to, because he didn’t want to either. They held hands and both let their tears fall silently, wishing that things could be different.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia and Oliver converse more.

When he woke up the next morning, Oliver found the room unexpectedly empty. The chairs by his bedside were unoccupied, nor was there anyone seated by the couches on the far side of the room. He could feel the dried tears and rheum around his eyes as he scratched them, as well as the damp spot on his pillow from where the tears fell the night before. With his body still lethargic and the room still dark with the curtains closed, it would be easy for him to fall back to sleep, but he decided against it.

His body wasn’t just lethargic from the sleep. He’d barely moved in the past week. The previous and only other time in his life when he had been sedentary for seven days was when Tatsu was nursing him back to health after Ra’s stabbed him. Other than that, the longest period of time that he had gone without exercise or a workout of some kind was four days. He shifted on to his right side and almost immediately regretted it when his ribs began aching. He absorbed the pain, moving his legs towards the edge of the bed before trying using to right arm to perch himself upright. He tried his best not to groan from the other pains that flared up as a result of the action. He pushed hard, but his strength failed him and the pain became too severe for him to persist. He slumped back on to his right side, and had to close his eyes when the room lights were switched on.

Someone entered the room, and it was Mia, much to his surprise. “Are you okay? I thought I heard you groaning,” she said. Evidently, he hadn’t been as discreet as he thought. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get up,” said Oliver, breathing heavily. “Help me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good ide-“

She tried talking some sense into him, but was interrupted.

“Mia… Please.” The woeful tone of his words compelled her to help. She walked to him, and tried her best to gently lift him upright. He was quite heavy, and while Mia was in good shape herself, him being dead weight made the task much harder. She could see he was in pain, and heard him disguise his moans as subtle murmurs.

He removed the pulse oximeter from his right hand before lifting his arm towards her, signalling to her to help pull him to his feet. She was still apprehensive, and knew he wouldn’t be able to stand by himself, so she assisted him. She took a seat next to him on the bed and he put his arm around her shoulders, using her as support as he pushed himself up to his feet.

Just as Oliver had felt like he was finally standing once again, his left leg buckled under his weight. Mia was unable to catch him and he dropped to the floor. This time, he screamed in pain, and Mia immediately began apologising.

“Oliver, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he wheezed.

A few seconds later, Roy rushed into the room. “What’s going on?” he asked concerned.

“He was trying to get up. Come on, help me,” Mia requested, acknowledging that she wouldn’t be able to lift Oliver off the floor by herself. She and Roy managed to get Oliver back on the bed, and she immediately placed a ventilator on his face having noted his shortness of breath. Roy left once Oliver was stable, and once he could speak, he conversed with Mia.

“You’re back early,” said Oliver.

“Yeah, I got back a couple of hours ago,” she said, as she finally opened the curtains in the room.

“Couple of hours ago?”

“Well, yeah. It’s three in the afternoon,” she replied, surprising Oliver once again. Perhaps the drowsiness from the pain meds was what kept him asleep for so long. She realised that he hadn’t done his morning routine yet, and started to mix the mouthwash solution for him to brush his teeth.

“Where’s Kara?” he asked.

“Thea told me that she went home,” replied Mia, as she handed Oliver the toothbrush. She left then to go bring his breakfast, and when she returned, she explained her arrangements while she was staying here.

She was given a thorough tour of the mansion by Roy, and a work station for her to do ARGUS work had already been set up. There was a guest room she’d be staying in if she wasn’t attending to Oliver. Earlier, when Mia was unpacking her two suitcases, she momentarily wondered what she’d gotten herself into. A week ago at this time, she was curled up under a thick blanket on her apartment couch, watching a nature documentary with her cat sleeping next to her and thinking life couldn’t be better. A part of her knew that was going to change the second she saw the news broadcast about Oliver Queen’s death.

Once he was done eating, she took the tray back downstairs and was very thorough in checking all of the medical apparatus around him.

“You know you don’t have to do all of this, right?” he said.

“I know, but this is the least I can do for you after all that you’ve done for me,” she replied. It was silent for a few seconds before Mia asked something that had been on her mind for a while. “Hey, with you being the Green Arrow and everything, that means you know The Flash, right?” Oliver nodded. “And Supergirl?” Oliver nodded again. “What are they like?” she asked curiously.

“They’re every bit as compassionate and exuberant as one would think,” replied Oliver.

“I’m sure. It’d be cool to meet them one day,” she said optimistically.

“You already have,” replied Oliver, deciding to have a little bit of fun with the fact that Mia didn’t know that she had met Supergirl the day before. “Well, not The Flash, but Supergirl.”

“What do you mean?” asked Mia, confused. “She wasn’t here.”

“Well, she was, but apparently she went home.” Oliver couldn’t help but chuckle a little as he saw Mia’s jaw drop as she realised.

“Kara is Supergirl? I met Supergirl?!”

“Maybe the next time she visits, you can ask for an autograph,” he joked.

“Where did she go then? I mean, The Flash has Central City but Supergirl only shows up once in a while, so where does Kara stay when she’s not… Supergirl?”

“She’s from a parallel universe,” replied Oliver bluntly, shocking Mia even more.

“Wow… It must be one hell of a story as to how you guys met and became friends then.”

“More than you can imagine,” replied Oliver, as he turned his head to look out the window on the left of the room.

“Your eyes are puffy,” she said. She had noticed earlier, but didn’t say anything at the time. “Were you crying?”

“Hmm? No, no,” replied Oliver, lying as he turned his face away from her once again. For the first time since she’d met him, Mia saw the blankness in his eyes as he stared into nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years to you wonderful people! Thank you for reading, commenting and giving kudos.
> 
> I'll be taking the next few days off to rejuvenate and relax. The story is nearing the final act, which will be posted in the new year. See you all in the 2021!


	27. Chapter 27

5 weeks passed since Oliver had fought Azrael. The situation in Star City only worsened day by day. With Azrael’s help, Ricardo Diaz was practically running the streets and the Burnout epidemic was ravaging The Glades. The police were intervening minimally, if at all. A lot of cops were working for Cobalt, and those that weren’t were understandably too afraid to do anything to keep their families safe. The people of Star City were losing faith. They looked to their returning hero, the Green Arrow, to intervene, but he had disappeared.

Mack Morgan had first phoned not long after Oliver’s supposed death, asking if the Green Arrow was working on the case to find out who was behind the ‘execution’. It was Diggle who answered, giving the excuse that the Green Arrow was injured badly by the same people that ‘killed’ Oliver and that he wasn’t going to be around for a while. Diggle advised Morgan to resign from the force to ensure he and his family’s safety, but he wasn’t sure if he had heeded that advice.

ARGUS was having minimal success in the fight against Cobalt. It would have been hard enough even if the entire city wasn’t wired, but now, they couldn’t work with the police or even City Council to carry out their operations. Even with Azrael’s identity having been provided to them by Sara, locating Azrael was proving more difficult than ever. He was an expert at hiding from cameras, and they weren’t going to find anyone who would give up his location. They weren’t even sure if he was in the city anymore.

For Oliver, life was barely improving. His injuries were healing gradually, but he was still far from independent. He could now sit upright and brush his teeth with toothpaste, but he was still bedridden. He had to be taken to the bathroom in a wheelchair. Raisa had been like a second mother to Oliver throughout his childhood, and now she was returning to that role as she helped bathe and dress him. His hair grew long. Not as long as his time on the island, but as long as it had been since he had returned from it, remaining untrimmed just like his now thick beard. Mia fed Oliver and gave him his daily medication, providing him company through his day. Barry returned to visit every few days, but Kara hadn’t come back.

It was just past 21:00, and Oliver was alone in his room. Even though Thea and Diggle didn’t want Oliver to watch the news, he was still keeping up to date with the events happening in the city. He checked news sites on his phone daily, and the state that the city was in was truly wrenching his gut. It was destroying itself, just like how Azrael said it would. Oliver had sat idle for the past few weeks, but he couldn’t do it anymore. With his injuries having partially recovered and the pain now being less debilitating, Oliver forced himself up.

He sat upright in his bed, and shifted his legs off of it until his feet touched the floor. He was determined to do some form of training, something that would make him stronger after five weeks of inactivty. He unclipped the sling from his left arm, and gently rotated the arm. He took a deep breath in, readying himself for his physical exertion. He was careful to not place weight on his left leg. He rose, supporting his weight with his right leg at first.

He was up. He carefully took steps forward, not putting too much pressure on his left leg and using the bedside table as support for him to lean on. The first few stops were cautious, and Oliver knew the real task began when he reached the end of the bedside table. He was determined to take at least five steps by himself, unaided. Another deep breath in, and he began, one step at a time.

One.. two… three…

And then he collapsed.

His left leg once again buckled, with his knee not being able to support his weight.

“Dammit.”

The pains which had dulled over the past few weeks began to return. His abdomen, his shoulder, they all returned to plague him. Oliver struggled to push himself back to his feet with his injured left shoulder, but he managed to get up nonetheless. He stumbled back, catching himself on the bedside table. He skirted along the table again, making his way to the edge before trying again.

One… two…

Two steps this time before he was down again. Despondent from his physical inadequacy, Oliver let out a guttural scream that sent echoes throughout the entire mansion as he threw his fist into the wooden floor beneath him, screaming until his throat hurt. He became light-headed, dropping completely to the floor and laying on his side as his frustration and failure continued to eat at his soul.

His horrifying scream caught the attention of everyone in the mansion. A few seconds later, Diggle, Roy, Mia and two ARGUS agents came running into the room, with Diggle, Roy and the agents scouting the room with pistols in their hands while Mia rushed to his side.

“Oliver? Oliver, are you okay?” she said concernedly. “What happened?”

“Nothing… I just can’t walk,” he said, dejected.

They all let out a breath of relief as they realised he wasn’t attacked. Diggle and Roy helped place Oliver back in bed before leaving with the agents, but Mia stayed. She sat on the chair by his side before eventually moving to the couch on the far right in the room for comfort.

There was silence for a long time, before Oliver finally managed to speak up.

“Azrael was right,” he said, his voice full of despair and agony.

“Right about what?” asked Mia, as she saw Oliver staring blankly at the ceiling.

“That I’m a failure.”

“You’re not a failure, Oliver.”

“I am. I failed to save my city, I failed to save my team, I failed at living without being the Green Arrow… Dig told me that I was hooding up for the wrong reasons, and that I wanted to die out there. He was right… I don’t know how to live anymore.”

“What about living for your loved ones?”

“Thea has Roy… William doesn’t need me anymore… Kara is gone…”

“Kara?” asked Mia, still unaware of Oliver’s relationship with her. Even being at a distance from the bed, Mia could see the tears in Oliver’s eyes as he spoke.

“We were together for a long time, but not anymore. I still love her, but I can’t be with her. She deserves someone better than me… Someone that isn’t a liar and murderer…”

“But you’re not those things, Oliver. You’re not,” replied Mia adamantly. “Azrael is in your head because he beat you.“

“He didn’t just beat me. He exposed me for who I really am.”

“Don’t you believe that bullshit that he said for one second! You can’t give up, Oliver. You have to fight, because that is who you are, a fighter! You have to be the man that changed my life, and I’m not talking about the man that set me up with money and a family. You changed my life by being a hero. You changed my life by showing me that it is possible to rise against the insurmountable odds and find a way to win. So what if Azrael is faster and stronger than you? You will fight, and you will beat him this time, because you won’t be doing this for yourself. You’ll be doing it for Thea, for William, for your team, for everybody that you love… You said you don’t know how to live, but you’re going to relearn how to, and it starts by stopping Azrael, and saving your city!”

Mia didn’t know what came over her as she said the words. She spoke straight from the heart with as much passion as she had ever displayed in her life.

“I’m not strong enough to do that,” said Oliver.

“Maybe not right now, but you will be…”

Of all the people that Oliver thought would snap him out of his self-loathing, existential crisis, Mia Dearden was the last person that he expected it from. The young woman provided him with a speech that was as motivating and as inspiring as any he’d ever received. It called back to the words Felicity spoke to him on the night of The Siege.

_You honour the dead by fighting, and you are not done fighting!_

Words that were as true as ever right now. If he gave up, he’d be letting down everyone that had passed away in his life. His mentors, his team, the women he’d loved, his parents… He’d be dishonouring them by not fighting. So he did.

He knew he had to be patient with himself. He was weak now, and going too hard immediately would lead to him only exacerbating his injuries, so he trained smart. Once Mia left, he slid off the bed on to the floor and did one-arm push-ups on his right side until he couldn’t anymore. The next morning, he immediately cleaned himself up, trimming his hair and beard before being fitted with a knee brace on his left leg which would allow him to start gradually walking again. He continued the physiotherapy exercises to rehab his left shoulder while beginning new ones to rehab his knee.

Day by day, week by week, he became stronger. After another 3 weeks, he was strong enough to begin full workouts again. A gym was set up in a spare room in the mansion, and Oliver pushed himself to the brink every single day. He rarely lifted weights in the past, preferring bodyweight exercises that were the norm during his time on the island, but he was using them every day now. He sparred frequently with either Roy or Diggle, the former who provided speed and agility to work around and the latter, despite his weak arm, replicating the frame and power that Azrael would bring should Oliver come up against him again.

Every time the thought of quitting popped into his head, it vanished immediately when Oliver remembered his fallen friends and loved ones. His body was pushed to its limit with hundreds of reps of salmon ladder pullups and squats being done every day, and now, he felt as strong as ever. He was wrong to think that his destiny was to die at the bottom of the ocean, because now, he realised what his true destiny was…

He had to save his city one last time.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia discovers what Azrael's endgame is.

“Got it!” exclaimed Mia, pumping her fist into the air in celebration. She immediately ran out of the room to call Oliver, Lyla and Diggle.

Nearly four months had passed since Oliver had fought Azrael the first time. Since then, ARGUS had been unsuccessful in meaningfully slowing down the deterioration of Star City and Azrael remained elusive. The few Cobalt members that they managed to apprehend gave up nothing. Breakthroughs were far and few between… until now.

ARGUS had recently intercepted an encrypted transmission which they suspected was a communication directly from Azrael to an unidentified recipient. Lyla tasked Mia and several other technicians with decrypting the message, and Mia worked tirelessly without sleep for past day to do so. She finally cracked it. She returned with Oliver, Diggle and Lyla, each eager to see what the message said.

“Tell us,” requested Oliver, as he stood next to Mia and stared at the screen.

“It’s a message from Azrael to a man named Aivars Petrov,” replied Mia.

“Aivars Petrov?” asked Diggle.

“Who is he?” asked Oliver.

“I don’t know, but the name sounds familiar,” replied Diggle, as he pulled out his phone and opened an ARGUS database app.

“The message says, _“2300. Don’t forget to bring your toys, 65.031667, 53.97.”_ 2300 must be the time…”

“The ending must be coordinates,” said Oliver, finishing Mia’s train of thought.

“Right. We just don’t know what the ‘toys’ he’s supposed to bring are,” said Mia.

“Well, I think I got a pretty good idea,” said Diggle as he showed the rest of them the picture of Aivars Petrov on his phone. “Aivars Petrov is a Latvian scientist who fled to Russia three months ago. He was working on a project called the Mutajek 9-9, a device that releases a compound which feeds directly on plastic in manufactured material. It was originally meant to be used to reduce ocean pollution, but once Petrov expressed an intent to weaponise the device, the Latvian government shut him down and ordered his arrest. That’s when he decided to flee to Russia.”

“You think Azrael is asking him to bring the Mutajek 9-9?” asked Lyla. “Surely Azrael isn’t going to use it on Star City?”

“He is,” said Oliver. “Azrael is targeting Star City because wants to send a message. This has to be his endgame. Star City is nearing the brink of collapse, Azrael is going to reduce it to rubble and take responsibility.”

“Well even if we’re not sure about that, we can’t let him get his hands on this device anyway,” said Diggle.

“I agree,” replied Lyla.

“The coordinates lead to an abandoned airport in Komi, Russia,” explained Mia, “It’s a 22-hour drive from Moscow. Given that we intercepted this 19 hours ago, ARGUS might not be able to get there in time.”

“Maybe not ARGUS, but the Bratva,” replied Oliver optimistically, pulling out his phone. “I’ll give Anatoly a call, I’m sure he has some friends in the Komi Republic that can get to Petrov.”

It took only a few seconds for Anatoly to answer.

_“Oliver Queen! My second favourite American!”_

Anatoly emphatically answered the call from Oliver, who frowned upon hearing his designation in the favourite American rankings.

“Second?” he asked.

_“Of course! John Diggle is still number 1… I’m just joking. I thought you dead, my friend.”_

“Well, you know I’m not that easy to kill. Listen, I need a favour.”

“ _Of course. Why else would you be calling?”_ he joked.

“Извините,” replied Oliver, apologising in Russian. “It’s not an exaggeration to say that thousands of lives are at stake.”

_“How can I help?”_

“Do you have any operatives, friends, or people who owe you favours in Komi?”

_“Da.”_

“There’s a rogue Latvian scientist who is transporting a WMD from the abandoned Izhma airport in three hours. You think you can get your people there in time to apprehend him and whoever is transporting him?”

_“Three hours is, as American would say, cutting close, but I think my guys can do it.”_

“Alright. Спасибо, Anatoly,” said Oliver, thanking him in Russian.

* * *

**[FOUR HOURS LATER]**

Despite their optimism that Anatoly’s men could get to Petrov before he could escape with his Cobalt allies, they were unable to do so. Anatoly had told them that his guys arrived just in time, but were outgunned and couldn’t stop Petrov from leaving with the Mutajek 9-9. The news was stomach-churning to say the least. They had tried tracking the plane following the take-off, but lost it somewhere over Belarus. They sent an unmanned drone to destroy the plane, but the chances of them finding the aircraft were minimal. This meant that not only did Azrael most likely now have the weapon in possession, but they had no way of knowing when or where he’d use it.

Diggle had just left the mansion to buy some groceries, accompanied by two agents. Throughout the drive and the shopping, Diggle’s mind could not drift from the thought of Star City being destroyed, literally crumbling into a pile of ash with the loss of life being immeasurable. It would be The Undertaking multiplied by a thousand, and just the thought of that sent chills down Diggle’s spine.

With it having been four months since Oliver’s “death”, Diggle no longer adhered to the protocol of only ARGUS agents going grocery shopping for those at the mansion. He figured if Cobalt were planning to kill or capture him, they would have done so by now. He’d become subconsciously complacent, a change which he didn’t realise costed him until it was too late. On the drive back to the mansion, he only noticed the van speeding towards his car once it was meters away. He had no time to swerve out of the way, as the larger vehicle rammed into his, toppling it over due to the sheer force behind it.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver is forced to rethink his plan to stop Azrael when Diggle is kidnapped.

“So how does it work?” asked Oliver, as he stood next to Mia at her work station, looking at the specs of the device on her screen. Mia had managed to hack into the VDD database, the Latvian state security agency, and find the specs of the Mutajek 9-9. Some of Petrov’s work had been seized by them, and luckily, Mia had managed to find the specs of the device on their database. They were preparing themselves for the worst-case scenario where the device would be activated and studying the specs of it was the only way they’d be able to figure out how to disarm it once that happens.

“It has an analog timer. The countdown is started by a remote detonator which in itself is a fail-safe because once the countdown starts, it can’t be stopped. We’d have to disarm the device manually. The device will disperse the compound over an 8-mile radius within seconds. We can’t destroy the device before it’s activated because that would lead to the compound being released,” explained Mia.

“What about getting it away from the city?” asked Oliver.

“That’s another fail-safe. Once the device is armed, it has a built-in GPS that will trigger it once it moves 5 meters in any direction from the point of where it’s activated.”

“So you’re telling me that if we want to stand any chance of disarming it, we have to make sure the countdown doesn’t start?” asked Oliver.

“Yeah,” replied Mia solemnly. “Like I said, we can disarm it manually, but that would be too risky.”

“Do you have any good news for me?” asked Oliver. He was surprised to actually receive an answer from Mia.

“Yeah, actually. I think I may have found out how to disable the meta dampeners in the city. Power-dampening prison cells work by emitting an electromagnetic field that suppresses the activation of the meta gene. If you were to apply this to a whole city, how would you do it?” she asked.

The words ‘electromagnetic field’ stood out to Oliver, and it didn’t take him long to recall why. “By increasing the range of the field… with a DX-60 Augmentor.”

“With a what?”

“The DX-60 Augmentor. It’s an electromagnetic field amplifier. One was stolen from Queen Industries by Cobalt.” Oliver had completely forgotten about the theft of it in the past few months.

“Right, yeah, an electromagnetic field amplifier. If we can destroy the amplifier, that means we can disable the meta-dampening field. The problem is finding the amplifier. I haven’t had much luck locating it so far.”

“Just keeping working on it. Good job, Mia. This helps a lot,” he said appreciatively. Disabling the meta dampeners would allow Barry and Cisco to help.

A third voice spoke up, and they turned around to see Lyla enter the room. “Something’s not right. John has been gone for two hours now.”

“Maybe he’s just stuck in traffic,” replied Mia.

“That’s not like him. He would have texted or called by now to let us know that,” said Lyla, finishing her words just as her phone started ringing. She immediately took out her phone and saw the caller ID – ‘ _John D_.’ She put the phone on speaker as soon as she answered.

“John?”

 _“Lyla, it’s me. Don’t tell him anyth-“_ They could hear his words being cut short with a punch, before his voice was replaced by another. _“Director Michaels… It’s nice to finally get to speak with you.”_

The British accent accompanied by Oliver’s tense reaction to the voice immediately told them who the man was. Lyla quickly activated an encryption software on her phone that would prevent an immediate trace before speaking again.

“Azrael, what have you done with John?” she asked, as she signalled for Mia to try trace the call, even though she knew Azrael would have likely activated the same encryption.

_“Don’t worry, Director. Your husband is still alive... for now.”_

“What do you want?”

_“Merely your co-operation. My men encountered some trouble in Russia. Bratva, I assume, courtesy of your old friend Anatoly Knyazev. His men failed, but I suspect that you have another plan to dispatch of the plane before it reaches its destination. If you do, then don’t follow through with it. If you don’t have any such plan, then keep it that way.”_

“Why would I listen to you?”

_“Because I’m sure JJ and Zoe want their father to come home in one piece. Do as I say, and I will release him back to you. If you don’t, I will make what I did to Oliver Queen look like child’s play.”_

Before Lyla could speak again, the call was cut and Mia slammed her fist into the table out of frustration, unable to finish the call trace.

* * *

Azrael hung up the phone and turned it off before handing it to one of his men. Back in the subway base, he turned back to face John Diggle, whose face was bruised and suffering from a couple of lacerations. He was tied to a chair in the center of the room.

“You think she’s going to comply?” asked Azrael, as he walked towards Diggle.

“You want to know what I think? I think that you’re the sick son of a bitch who murdered my best friend,” growled Diggle in reply. Of course Oliver was still alive, but Azrael didn’t need to know that. He knew the moment when Azrael would find that out was going to be sweet, but that moment wouldn’t be now. Oliver was a trump card at the moment, and it was going to stay that way until it was time.

“Your friend… Oliver Queen, yes… This very room is where I broke him,” said Azrael arrogantly. “If you look closely, you might even be able to see his bloodstains on the floor,” he said with a sadistic smile.

“Don’t worry, your blood is going to be spilled pretty soon.”

“Maybe, but not before yours,” replied Azrael, as he threw two hard punches to Diggle’s ribs before finishing with one to his face. John Diggle could take a punch, but even he had to acknowledge how powerful and precise of a striker Azrael was. Feeling it first-hand now, it was easy to see how Oliver had been beaten so brutally.

“What happened to ‘returning me in one piece’?” asked Diggle, as he spat blood.

“Oh, you’ll stay in one piece, but that doesn’t mean I can’t interrogate you. Now, you can either willingly tell me what ARGUS knows about me and everything that you have planned to stop me, or I can just beat that information out of you.”

“I think I’ll take the beating.”

“If that’s how it has to be...” said Azrael, as he threw another two punches into Diggle’s stomach. He admired Diggle’s pain threshold, as he watched him put on a poker face despite the power behind the strikes. “I’m impressed. I think you might just last longer than Oliver.”

“I doubt it.” Diggle spat again, this time aiming for Azrael’s shoes. “You sure as hell hit like a bitch for a former League of Assassins member.” The mention of the League of Assassins drew surprise from Azrael.

“You know that I was part of the League?” he asked.

“I know you were a mercenary and then became Ra’s Al Ghul’s lap dog.”

“Who told you this?” asked Azrael, curious to know who could have provided such information.

“Does the name Ta-er al-Sahfer ring a bell?”

Azrael chuckled as soon as he remembered. “Sara Lance. What else did she tell you about me?”

“You’re going to need whole a lot more punches to get any more information out of me,” replied Diggle. He regretted his words almost immediately, as Azrael adhered to them and struck Diggle several more times.

* * *

“So, what do we do?” asked Roy. He, Thea and Quentin had been filled in on the situation at hand, and they were all seated in the living room attempting to discuss the plan going forward.

“I don’t know,” replied Oliver solemnly.

“I don’t mean to be insensitive, but we’re talking one life versus millions,” said Mia, choosing to speak her mind rather than share the sentiment of the others in the room. “I know John is like your family, but what about the thousands of other families who will die if we let Azrael get his hands on the Mutajek 9-9?”

“I hate to say it, but she’s got a point,” said Quentin regrettably. The following silence in the room prompted Mia to speak up again.

“Look, I know this is difficult but is this really that hard of a choice to make?” she asked.

“Yes, Mia, it is!” snapped Lyla. “How would you react if it was your husband or your best friend in that position?”

“I’d hope that someone would be there to tell me what I’m telling you.”

“Mia is right,” conceded Oliver. None of them wanted Diggle to lose his life, but at the same time, how could they let their personal relationship with him jeopardise millions of lives? However, besides that, Oliver was seeing a path here that none of the others were. “It’s a no-brainer. If we have to choose between John and the city, we have to choose the city. But who says we have to choose?”

The suggestion stunned the others. “What are you proposing?” asked Roy.

“Diggle is Azrael’s only leverage right now. If we can find a way to use that against him, we can save both him and the city. It would be risky, but I think we can pull it off.”

“How do you suggest we do that?” asked Quentin, as Oliver took a deep breath before explaining.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and his team enact the first step of their new plan to stop Azrael.

It took 18 hours for the flight from the Komi Republic to reach Tacoma City. While Lyla Michaels had listened and chose not to interfere with the plane, Azrael opted for them to land in Tacoma first as a precaution, before transporting the Mutajek 9-9 by car to Star City. His interrogation of John Diggle hadn’t been very fruitful. John withstood the beatings without giving up anything of value. Azrael expected that it would take a lot for Diggle to break, but by now, whatever he knew was irrelevant. The device had already been planted in the city, and he was simply awaiting the arrival of Aivars Petrov, who would hand him the detonator. He waited patiently for his arrival in his subway headquarters.

“Labdien,” said Azrael, greeting Petrov in Latvian as he approached him with his hand outstretched.

“Labdien,” replied Petrov, as he shook his hand.

“Where is it?” asked Azrael immediately.

“Money first,” demanded Petrov, prompting Azrael to signal to one of his men to bring a briefcase. He opened it for Petrov, showing the countless stacks of $100 bills before closing it and handing it to him. Petrov dug in his bag for the detonator before handing it to Azrael. “I trust this concludes our business?”

“For now,” replied Azrael, as he inspected the detonator in his hands.

“When do you plan on activating the device?” asked Petrov.

“Soon,” replied Azrael cryptically. “I suggest you leave Star City as soon as possible Dr Petrov. You don’t want to be around when things get ugly.”

Petrov left the subway in a hurry, planning to heed Azrael’s advice who then turned and walked towards Diggle, brandishing the detonator in his hands.

“Well, Mr Diggle. Simply put, you and your friends have lost.”

“Don’t count on it, the night is still young,” said Diggle, even though he knew Azrael was probably right. He could only hope that Oliver and the others had something up their sleeve.

“You lot never really give up, do you?” said Azrael. “The Mutajek 9-9 is in a very secure place in the city, and I have the detonator. There is no path to victory for you, so just stop fighting. Tell Director Michaels that when I return you to her.”

“I thought you were going to kill me anyway given the sick bastard that you are,” hissed Diggle.

“I have no care for your childish insults, Mr Diggle. Just be grateful that your children are going to see their father tonight.”

Azrael pulled out Diggle’s phone and switched it back on, immediately calling Lyla. She answered after just two rings.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Director Michaels. My men will drop off your husband at Nelson Plaza in 15 minutes. You will find him there, alive and in one piece, as promised.” He readied himself to hang up the call, but Lyla spoke up and he listened.

_“Before you hang up, I suggest that you turn on the news. Channel 52.”_

Azrael was irritated by the request, but decided to play along nonetheless, signalling to one of his men to do so. At first, it was an ordinary news report, with the anchor tonelessly speaking about recent events in the city. Suddenly, the transmission was cut… After a few seconds of blankness, a new image popped up on the screen and Azrael almost dropped the phone as he recognised the new figure in the video.

* * *

Having hacked into the news network transmission, Oliver Queen was in front of every screen in Star City, and every citizen listened to the words he began to speak.

_“Star City. My name is Oliver Queen, and yes, I am still alive. I know that my very appearance in front of you right now raises many questions, but they will have to wait, because tonight, our city faces a threat far greater than any we have seen before. Over the past five months, Star City has descended into chaos and disorder, with criminal activity increasing exponentially and the corruption of city officials having occurred amongst a multitude of other unspeakable events. These events were not random. They were orchestrated by a terrorist organisation known as Cobalt, who are led by a man named Alexander Zugravescu. Tonight, he plans to destroy Star City using a weapon of mass destruction, and while the Green Arrow and government operatives are working on disarming the device, it cannot be guaranteed that they will be successful in doing so. I know that you don’t have much reason to trust me, but please listen to me when I say that a city-wide evacuation needs to be held, and that those of you that can fight need to do so! Cobalt operatives are still active, and they will do everything to make sure that you cannot leave the city, but they cannot stop us all. You can beat them and make it to safety, but only if you are united. God forgive me, I have failed this city many times, but tonight, you will not.”_

* * *

“I think you’ve just cost your husband his life, Lyla,” said Azrael, as the transmission came to an end.

_“I wouldn’t lay a finger on him if I was you.”_ A different voice replied, and Azrael grinned.

“Oliver Queen… You’re still alive.”

“ _You really thought that it was going to be that easy to kill me? Clearly, you’re dumber than I thought._ ” Azrael chuckled. “ _Now, as I was saying, you’re not even going to think about killing John Diggle.”_

Azrael scoffed before replying. “Why not?”

_“Because he is your only ticket out of here. You’re not going to detonate the device without leaving the city, but you can’t. ARGUS has the city surrounded and we have a Predator drone ready to shoot you out of the sky. However, we can’t do that if you have a hostage.”_

“You, of all people, are suggesting to me that I use your friend as a human shield to make a get-away?”

_“It’s the only card that you can play right now. I couldn’t care less about you, my focus is on the device. I’ll come for you another day.”_

“Very well then.” Azrael hung up the phone, turning to see John Diggle laughing. “Is something funny, Mr Diggle?” he asked as he turned back to face him.

“Yeah, the fact that you still think that you’re going to win,” replied Diggle, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“In case you’ve already forgotten, I have the Mutajek 9-9 at my disposal, and you as a hostage to get me out of here. Oliver Queen had to choose between saving the city or capturing me, and he chose the city,” he replied nonchalantly.

“That may be true, but what you don’t understand is that this doesn’t end here. Once that device is disarmed, he is going to come for you, and there is no place on God’s green Earth where you will be safe from him. It doesn’t matter where you go or which ditch you crawl into, he will find you, and this time, the only way it’s going to end is with an arrow through your chest.”

“Is that so?” he said before striking Diggle out of irritation. Diggle spat blood before grinning once again. Azrael ignored him, instead marching over to his second-in-command, Rhys Walker. “Change of plans. We’re setting the device off tonight.”

“What about the rest of our men? And Queen?” he asked. They were all supposed to leave the city well before the device was activated, but evidently, that was no longer possible.

“The mission comes first. I’ll deal with Queen later, you just get the chopper ready.”

* * *

For possibly the last time in his life, Oliver Queen suited up. He checked every arrowhead, every flechette, and inspected every inch of his bow to ready himself for the coming battle. As soon as they had decided to allow Azrael to get a hold of the Mutajek 9-9, they contacted Mack Morgan and asked him to discreetly start evacuating women and children from the city. With help from undercover ARGUS agents and Captain Smith, they’d managed to get a decent amount of people out, but there were still millions in the city. The ensuing chaos would probably buy enough time for Oliver to make it to Azrael and Diggle and stop them from leaving the city.

They didn’t know when Azrael originally planned to set the Mutajek 9-9 off, but Oliver’s city-wide broadcast forced him to do it tonight. It was a risky move on their part, but at least now they had a time-frame to work with. Barry and Cisco were joining them for the mission. Mia had located the DX-60, and Lyla had dispatched an ARGUS team to disable it. Once the meta-dampening field was down, Cisco and Mia would disarm the device while Barry would help with the evacuation, keeping civilian casualties to a minimum and grabbing whichever corrupt city officials he could before they try to leave the city.

As soon as Oliver was done suiting up, he joined all of the others by Mia’s work station in the mansion. All the faces in the room turned to him as he entered. Quentin, Roy, Barry, Cisco, Thea, Lyla, William, Mia. Barry and Cisco were already suited up.

“This is it,” started Oliver. “This ends tonight. I need you all to know that I am fully prepared to do whatever it takes to save the city, even if that means that I don’t come home. If that happens, I want you all to know that I am truly grateful for every second that you have been in my life. I mean that from the bottom of my heart.”

“Thankfully, we don’t have to worry about that happening,” said Barry. “You have us, Oliver. You’ve fought far too many battles in your life by yourself, but not this one. We’re with you.” Oliver thanked Barry with a slight nod and half-smile before turning to Mia.

“Where are we with finding the Mutajek 9-9?” asked Oliver. Mia sighed deeply before replying.

“That’s our only problem right now,” she said. “The scans aren’t picking it up.” The compound in the device was radioactive, which they thought meant that it could be found with scans, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Keep the running them,” replied Oliver. “I’m sure something will pop up. If nothing does, then we stick to the plan. Once the dampeners are down, Barry will sweep the city for it.”

“I don’t mean to be a pessimist, but what if we don’t have time to find it?” replied Cisco

“How far are they with disabling the dampeners?” asked Barry, speaking to Lyla.

“They should be getting there soon,” she replied.

“If Barry hasn’t found it by the time that I get to Azrael, I’ll see if I can get him to tell me where the device is,” replied Oliver.

“How exactly do you plan on making him do that?” asked Roy.

“I’ll ask him… _nicely,_ ” replied Oliver sternly, speaking with a tone that barely hid his intention to torture Azrael if need be.

“That won’t be necessary.”

Suddenly, the focus of the room was no longer on Oliver but the woman standing in the doorway to his right. Kara Danvers, in her Supergirl suit.

“You have me. I can scan the city and find it,” she said, as she walked towards Oliver. He was dumbfounded by her arrival, and wasn’t sure how to react given their last meeting.

“Kara, how did you…”

“Thea sent me a message. I only saw it late, but it looks like I’m here just in time.”

“Yeah, you are. Thank you,” said Oliver, as they both shared a smile.

“So, we ready to do this?” asked Barry.

Oliver’s expression turned stoic as he replied. “Let’s roll out.”


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the help of Barry and Kara, Oliver makes a final stand against Azrael.

The mayhem and disarray on the streets didn’t prove to be too much of an impediment on Azrael’s navigation through the city. Then again, when one was behind the wheel of a Gurkha LAPV, there wasn’t much that could stop it once it was moving. The evacuation efforts were being disrupted by rioters as well as the many Cobalt operatives around the city. It was starting to look less like an evacuation and more like a war, and that boded well for Azrael.

It took them just about 15 minutes to reach the building where the chopper was waiting for them on the roof. Rhys Walker nudged the handcuffed Diggle along while they moved through the building. Diggle attempted to resist, but he was hurt, and wouldn’t have been able to make it far even if he managed to get away from them. Besides, he kept faith that Oliver wouldn’t allow him to be taken away by Azrael. Or at least he hoped he wouldn’t.

Once they reached the roof and started to walk to the helipad, he began to think that perhaps he was wrong. However, he truly meant what he had said to Azrael. If Azrael somehow miraculously made an escape, it really was only going to be a matter of time before Oliver found him again and punished him. Luckily, he knew that he wasn’t going to have to wait much longer for that, as he heard the whip in the air coming from a distance.

Just as they were nearing the steps leading up to the helipad, a red and blue blur zipped past the rotor blades, snapping them off the top of the helicopter.

“What the f-“ Azrael was cut short when he was knocked to the other side of the roof by a powerful force that hit him in the gut. Rhys Walker had no time to react either, as he found his body zipping through the air until he found himself on the roof of another building before being knocked unconscious.

When Kara Zor-El returned to the roof of the Zion Building, this time, she had Oliver Queen by her side, as they landed in front of Diggle.

“Man, am I glad to see you two,” he said. Kara immediately walked behind him and broke his cuffs, before turning around and facing Azrael, who was getting back to his feet.

“Welcome back from the dead, Mr Queen,” he said. “I see you’ve brought a friend,” he said as he gestured to Kara. She was having none of his nonchalant manner, as she sped over and wrapped her arms around his throat in a rear naked choke.

“Tell us where the device is or I’ll crush your windpipe,” she growled, concerning Oliver by how convincing she sounded. Her first scan over the city was unsuccessful, which was why she was choosing to interrogate Azrael.

“Tell us!” she demanded, tightening her grip.

“You’ll never find it. The countdown has already started. It’s only a matter of time before this city is reduced to rubble,” groaned Azrael. Kara squeezed harder, depriving Azrael of more oxygen, but she loosened her grip when he began to speak more. “Come on, Oliver. Are you going to let your girlfriend break my neck, or are you going to do the dirty work yourself?”

He presented the same argument that Oliver had made to him four months prior when they first faced off. As much as Oliver knew granting him his wish could be disastrous, he also knew that Azrael granted him the same opportunity. A fair fight. Wouldn’t it be unfair and dishonourable if he didn’t do the same? Whatever the answer to that question was, it mattered not to Oliver, for he needed retribution. Azrael had broken him before, and now, he was going to do the same to him.

“Kara, leave him!” he said. She took a second to let go before she sped over to Oliver and spoke softly.

“You know I was just bluffing, right? I wasn’t going to kill him,” she said.

“I know, but he won’t talk. Just get Diggle to safety and keep searching for the device. I’ll deal with Azrael.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. The look of worry in her eyes spoke to remind him of what had happened the last time he had fought Azrael.

“Don’t worry. I got this,” he said, with a half-smile, one which she reciprocated before she burst off into flight with Diggle. The half-smile disappeared in an instant as Oliver looked back at Azrael.

“Well, here we are,” he said, as he and Oliver took steps towards each other. “The last time we fought, I butchered you. What makes you think that this time is going to be any different?” he asked, as they began to circle each other, just as they’d done the first time.

“Why don’t you come forward and find out?” said Oliver smugly.

Azrael smirked, before blitzing forward to begin the fight.

* * *

After dropping Diggle off on the outskirts of the city with other evacuees, Kara quickly took back to the sky and began scanning the city once again. Star City was huge. Azrael had plenty of places where he could easily hide the Mutajek 9-9 and still have it be effective. The Mutajek 9-9 didn’t have to necessarily be in the open too. It could easily be placed in an enclosed room, with the powerful, quick release of the compound coupled with its low density meaning that it could still spread over the city within a minute. As much as her superspeed and x-ray vision allowed her to conduct a broad search, it was still difficult to process all the minutiae and distinguish the device from city infrastructure.

_“Kara. The dampener is down. Have you found the device?”_ Barry’s voice spoke up on the small comms device placed in her ear.

“No, not yet.”

_“I’ll sweep the city too. It has to be here somewhere.”_

Each second that went by was another second wasted that could be spent on disarming it. Which also meant another second closer to activation. Over her time as Supergirl, she’d been in plenty of situations which were as stressful as the one at hand, but even she began to become nervous and frustrated as she continuously swept over the city without spotting anything. She stopped and took a deep breath, recognising that she needed to have a clear head if she was to spot it. Two quick breaths were enough to calm her nerves, as she quickly took to speed once again. She kept her patience as she swept through the city again, and finally, something caught her eye.

On one of the top floors of the Queen Industries building, an office area currently undergoing renovation with several leaded glass panes scattered in the room. Except for one, which sat horizontally, leaning against something which was placed against the wall. Due to the lead in the panel, she couldn’t see what was behind it, but she had a pretty good idea of what it was. She immediately sped there, and realised that she was right as she shoved the pane aside.

“Guys, I found the Mutajek 9-9.”

_“Where?”_ asked Cisco.

“Queen Industries building. One of the top floors, I don’t know which exactly.”

Kara peered over the device and noted the ticking timer… _00:04:47_

“4 minutes and 47 seconds to activation.”

_“That should be enough time to disarm it,”_ replied Mia over the comms.

“Should?”

Within another second, a breach opened up next to her, and Cisco and Barry jumped through. Cisco immediately took out a small toolkit and opened it. With Kara as an extra helping hand, Mia was able to stay at the mansion while Barry and Cisco would do the disarming.

“We got this,” said Barry to Kara, as he pulled his cowl back. She nodded, before speeding off to help with the evacuation.

“Okay, Mia,” said Cisco, as he and Barry knelt next to the device. “Talk us through.”

* * *

Azrael charged forward first, initiating the first exchange of their rematch. He threw a left head kick at Oliver, who blocked it. He followed it with a punch, but his fist didn’t connect as Oliver ducked under it. Azrael was overconfident. It displayed in how he rushed forward, throwing telegraphed combinations in an attempt to bulldoze through Oliver like he did in their first fight. Oliver easily dodged and blocked more punches before whipping his bow into Azrael’s leg. It was only a matter of time before Azrael would realise he was in a fight, so Oliver wanted to capitalise on his overzealousness early by making him miss and then counter. 

He rose and swung his bow towards Azrael’s head, who ducked under it. However, this time, Oliver knew how Azrael would counter him. He braced himself for the first punch to his body, before dipping his head, dodging the following right hook. He swung his bow again, and this time was able to connect to the side of Azrael’s temple. Azrael stumbled from the power of the blow, and Oliver could see he was surprised to have lost the exchange.

Eager to win the next one, he rushed forward. Oliver evaded his punches again before spinning around and ramming his bow into Azrael’s calf. Once again, the power of the strike was on display, as Azrael was knocked off balance. Oliver wanted to keep the pressure on him, as he marched forward and swung his bow into Azrael’s abdomen. He followed up with an elbow to the head, and then threw a hard leg kick at the exact same spot on Azrael’s calf. The kick landed but Oliver left his head exposed, and Azrael was able to throw a powerful left hand, the same counter that he’d landed in their first fight.

While the blow did stun Oliver, he took it much better than when it landed in their first fight, no doubt due to his rigorous conditioning over the past few weeks in preparation for this encounter. Azrael was more than surprised to see Oliver absorb the blow without being rattled. He was bewildered. Oliver retreated to avoid the following strikes from Azrael, blocking and dodging many of them. He dipped under a left hook from Azrael and pivoted away before landing two punches of his own and retreating once again. He knew he had to try his best to stay at a distance from Azrael so as to not get drawn into a brawl. He was bolstered by the sight of Azrael spitting blood, who wiped his mouth before he spoke.

“You’ve made improvements,” he said as he marched forward once again.

Oliver leapt forward to attack, throwing another leg kick and keeping his right hand up to block the same counterpunch from Azrael. He lifted his left arm up to strike with his bow again, but there wasn’t enough room for the strike to make its full arc as Azrael had closed the distance between them. Azrael flung his arm over Oliver’s and torqued it inward. The pain caused Oliver to drop his bow before Azrael threw two consecutive elbow strikes which stung Oliver. He prevented the third one by grabbing Azrael’s head and pulling it down onto a knee strike, creating separation between them.

Up until this point, Oliver possessed the slight upper hand, but he knew that this fight was just getting started.

* * *

_“Do you see the green wire attached to the motherboard?”_

“Yes,” replied Cisco.

_“Cut it.”_

Barry moved the other wires out of the way, allowing Cisco to place his wire cutters in place and cut.

“How much more do we have to do?” asked Barry as he glanced at the timer. _00:02:32…_

_“A lot.”_

He and Cisco both groaned as they swiped the sweat that was starting to form on their foreheads.

* * *

As much as Oliver’s intense training and improved conditioning prepared him for this rematch, Azrael was still proving to be a difficult opponent. However, this fight was far different from the first one. This time, both men were exchanging power strikes, each absorbing them without allowing the other to gain an advantage. They had taken their time in their first fight, but now they were fighting ferociously at a much higher pace. Previously, Azrael had the advantage due to his power, but that wasn’t the case this time. Both men were hurting, and it was going to come down to either who could exploit a fight-ending mistake first, or simply, who could take more punishment without breaking first.

Both of them had an extraordinary ability to take a punch, so neither anticipated a knockout. Instead, they both chose a path to breaking the other down. Oliver targeted the legs, which would take away Azrael’s base and stifle his ability to generate power, while Azrael targeted the body, hoping to wind Oliver and deplete him of his superior cardiovascular endurance.

Azrael was the one wearing the superficial damage this time. His mouth was bloodied, his face bruised with a crimson line streaming down his left cheek due to a cut next to his eyebrow. Oliver had yet to bleed in the contest this time, and that was bolstering his confidence as they engaged once again. He blocked a body kick from Azrael, but was caught by the punch that followed after the retraction of the kick.

Oliver dodged the next punch, and returned with a body-head punch combination of his own. He threw an uppercut next, but Azrael slipped it, and dug his fist into Oliver’s ribs. Pain immediately flared up, but Oliver attempted to fight through it. He threw another punch, but Azrael dodged it again, and threw two more punches at Oliver’s ribs. As soon as the final punch landed, Oliver knew his ribs had been fractured again. He shoved Azrael back, and took deep breaths to recover the air that had been knocked out of him.

When his ribs were compromised in the first fight, that was when the contest started to slip away from him. He couldn’t allow that to happen this time. He _refused_ to allow that to happen. He had to do what he’d always done in his life. He had to fight through the pain. He had to turn his weaknesses into an advantage, and so he did. The pain was still profound, but it wasn’t debilitating. He knelt over and grimaced in an exaggerated manner, given the impression that he was hurt far worse than he actually was. He saw the rejuvenation on Azrael’s face, as he recklessly jogged forward with an intent to end the fight. Little did he know, he was being baited.

As soon as he was within striking distance, Oliver rose and exploded forward with a right hand, catching Azrael clean on the jaw. The powerful punch blacked out Azrael’s vision, and now he was the one stumbling back. Oliver knew the fight had turned in his favour. He moved forward now, throwing combinations of sharp, precise punches that alternated between the body and the head. He threw each strike with vicious intentions, each having a profound impact. He winded his arm back to throw a devastating uppercut, which knocked Azrael to the floor for the first time in their two contests. When he hit the floor and looked back up at Oliver, Oliver saw something in his eyes which he had never seen before… fear.

“You’re failing,” said Oliver, taunting him the same way which Azrael had done to him.

“Shut up!” growled Azrael in reply, as he lunged to his feet and wildly threw punches at Oliver. Oliver easily evaded them all before whipping a kick into his abdomen. He then pushed Azrael back, and threw all of his strength into a leg kick which swept Azrael right off his feet. Azrael howled in pain and grabbed his leg, immediately knowing that his Achilles tendon had been ruptured. The same injury from his firefight in Kashmir years prior, coming back like a ghost from his past to haunt him. He laboured back to his feet, and was forced to switch his stance to take pressure off of his injured leg. He took steps back to create space between him and the stone-cold Oliver, but he couldn’t retreat fast enough to avoid the incoming strikes.

Oliver whipped another kick into Azrael’s abdomen, this time Azrael’s ribs being the ones to crack. Azrael’s groans were cut short when Oliver unloaded more punches on him, each strike thrown with full power and precisely placed to cause maximum hurt. He wasn’t just beating Azrael, he was punishing him. The body strikes hurt his ribs further and zapped the air from his lungs, while the head strikes split cuts open and shattered the orbital bone under his left eye.

Oliver threw another leg kick, disrupting Azrael’s balance before he was pulled close by the scruff of his trench coat. Oliver whipped his head directly into Azrael’s face, the head-butt breaking the nose of his adversary. He took a step back, hammering an uppercut directly into Azrael’s sternum, before punching him right on the jaw and shoving him away. Azrael staggered back, remaining standing only because he caught himself on the solid concrete railing at the edge of the roof. With his legs destroyed, his body battered and his face crushed and cut, it was only when Azrael leaned back on the railing and realised that he wouldn’t be able to stand without its support, that he accepted that Oliver Queen had bested him.

* * *

_00:00:24… 00:00:23… 00:00:22…_

“Mia, we’re running out of time!” said Cisco in a panic.

_“I know, I know! Did you remove the panel I told you to remove?”_

“Yes!”

_“The black and red wires, you need to cut them simultaneously.”_

“Simultaneously?” asked Barry.

_“Yeah, within a tenth of a second. The device will activate if you don’t.”_

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” exclaimed Cisco.

“3, 2, 1 and then cut, okay,” said Barry, as he placed his cutter in place. “Come on,” he said, urging Cisco to do the same. He placed his cutter in place as well, as he and Barry both looked at each other and began to countdown.

“3…”

_00:00:04…_

“2…”

_00:00:03…_

“1…”

_00:00:02…_

“Cut!”

* * *

As Oliver turned back to pick up his bow, Barry’s voice spoke up on his comms channel.

“ _Oliver… we did it. The Mutajek 9-9 is disarmed.”_

He picked up his bow and limped forward to a few meters in front of Azrael.

“It’s over. The device is disarmed.”

Azrael wiped the blood that was pouring from his nose, and took heavy breaths through his mouth. With his entire body was in agony, he had no choice but to accept defeat now. The sounds of chaos beneath them on the streets had died down too, and for a moment, it felt as if he and Oliver were the only two souls in the city. Azrael looked around, almost as if to take in his surroundings and remember this as the place where he was going to die.

“So this is how it ends…” Azrael calmly spoke, questioning the fate which his maker had bestowed upon him. “What are you waiting for?” he said as he turned to Oliver. “Finish it. You’ll only be proving me right. That you’re a murderer. A killer!”

“That’s the difference between you and me. I may be a killer, but I’m not a murderer,” replied Oliver, before he reached back and pulled an arrow from his quiver. He nocked it on his bow, before drawing the string back and taking aim at Azrael’s chest. “Alexander Zugravescu… _You have failed… this… city!”_

Oliver’s fingers slid off the bowstring, and just like that, it was all over.

With the war now over, Oliver now looked around. With the adrenaline starting to leave his veins, pain and fatigue began to cripple him, causing his mind to become hazy. It was surreal to think that he’d finally done it. He’d saved his city once again, and he took in the tranquillity of his metropolis before his exhaustion overcame him and he fainted.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Final Chapter.

_“I’ll always be proud of you, my beautiful boy…”_

After what he assumed to be a couple of hours after the final battle, Oliver came to, and immediately noted the softness of a bed beneath him in stark contrast to the firm gravel roof of the Zion Building. The memory of his unusual dream remained fresh in his mind. He couldn’t exactly make out where he was, but his parents were there. Robert and Moira, who both told him that they were proud of him. Oliver wasn’t the type of person to appropriate extranormal meaning to dreams, but a part of him felt as if he really did speak to his parents. He knew it was crazy to feel that way, but he couldn’t deny the feeling of content that it gave him.

He rose off the bed and was able to register his surroundings. He was back in his room in the Queen Mansion, and, of course, all of the others were here too. Their demeanour was far more jovial than the last time he’d woken from a slumber, as they all calmly walked towards him with smiles. William was the exception, as he rushed towards his father and wrapped him a tight hug, squeezing a little harder than needed.

“The ribs,” groaned Oliver. “Watch the ribs, buddy.”

“Sorry,” replied William sheepishly, sharing a smile with his father as they let go of each other. Oliver turned his attention to the others, particularly, Kara, Barry and Cisco.

“You guys did it. You saved the city,” replied Oliver appreciatively.

“Well, we couldn’t have done it without you,” replied Barry, confusing Oliver.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You’ve been a mentor and a friend to all of us. Our steady rock that we could always lean on. None of us would be the people that we are today without you, and we wouldn’t have been able to pull it off if you had never showed us how to be true heroes.”

Barry’s words meant the world to Oliver. “Thank you Barry. Thank you all.” He walked over to Diggle behind them, his arm in a sling once again and nursing some injuries. “You alright?” he asked.

“Eh, did worse to myself back in the day,” he joked, drawing a chuckle from Oliver. He turned to face the others once again before speaking.

“So, what happened after?” he asked.

“We disarmed the Mutajek 9-9 and I took it to Star Labs,” replied Cisco. “I’ll see if we can find a non-‘city destroying’ purpose for it. If not, then we’ll dispose of it.”

“The city is mostly back to normal,” added Kara. “I rounded up as many Cobalt operatives and corrupt city officials as I could, and handed them over to Mack Morgan and his Captain.”

“Good,” replied Oliver, already thinking about what the near future for Star City was going to look like. He was for sure going to have to hold a press conference explaining himself, but that was a worry for another day.

“So what now?” asked Roy, gesturing to Oliver’s bow. “You said you’d be done once you stopped Azrael.”

Oliver hadn’t forgotten about that promise he made to Thea. He saw his bow perched next to the bed, and collected it before returning to his sister. He held out the bow, giving it to her as a symbol of his retirement. “I promised you I’d stop.”

He anticipated her to take the bow from him as she stretched her hand out, but was surprised to see her push it back towards him. “I think Star City is going to need the Green Arrow for a little longer,” she added as she slyly smiled. “And he’s going to need an Overwatch too,” she said, as she looked at Mia, who was dumbfounded by the suggestion.

“What? Me? No, no ways. I mean I’d love to, but what about ARGUS?” she asked, as she looked at Lyla.

“Well, as long as you do your due diligence during the day, you are free to spend your nights however you wish,” replied Lyla, giving the blessing. Mia almost squealed like a schoolgirl in excitement, drawing laughter from everybody.

“I hate to break up the party, but it’s been a long night,” said Oliver.

“Yeah, I ought to head back to Earth-38,” said Kara, as she greeted everyone before Cisco opened a breach for her. “Peace out from your favourite Kryptonian,” she said, throwing up the peace signs as she stepped through. As soon as she was gone, it was then Barry and Cisco’s turn to leave.

“You feeling a hug?” asked Barry, as he greeted Oliver.

“No,” replied Oliver bluntly, before changing his mind. “Okay, maybe a little bit,” he conceded, as he and Barry embraced. Soon they were gone too, and the others all returned to their rooms to call it a night.

* * *

Following a soothing shower, Oliver’s phone began ringing as he changed back into clothes. It was his “business” cell, and he answered immediately, seeing that it was Mack Morgan.

“Detective.”

_“Hey. I just wanted to say thank you. For saving the city.”_

“How’s the family?”

_“They’re alright. I got them out to my sister’s place in San Jose. They’ll be back soon. I’m here at the precinct with Smith. He knows I’ve been working with you, and wants to talk.”_

Oliver was reluctant to accept at first, but decided there’d be no harm in hearing what Smith had to say. “Put him on.”

A couple of seconds later, Morgan’s voice was replaced by the deeper, southern one. _“I know that I’ve been very harsh on you and your friends in the past, but we’d all be dead right now if it weren’t for you lot. I never thought I’d ever say this to a vigilante, but thank you. Maybe the city needs you more than I can admit.”_

“Thank you,” replied Oliver, appreciative of the sincerity behind Smith’s words. The voice switched back to Morgan immediately. Oliver heard him move away from Smith and lower his voice.

_“Hey, just between you and me… You and Queen? You two obviously ‘work’ together, right?”_

Oliver knew exactly what the young detective was asking. “You could say that,” replied Oliver nonchalantly, giving the answer that Morgan was looking for.

_“Yeah, sure. Well, once again, thank you. Are you going to be sticking around for a while?”_

“Yeah,” replied Oliver.

_“Alright. I’ll still be here to help if you need me.”_

“I appreciate it, Detective. Goodnight,” said Oliver, as he hung up the phone.

Once he finished dressing, he immediately exited his room to go to Mia’s, hoping that she was awake. He knocked on her door, and heard her say that he could come in. She was in bed, but awake and on her phone.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as she sat up.

“Nothing,” replied Oliver, as he sat down on the edge of her bed. She noticed that he was well dressed, looking quite dapper.

“Where are you going dressed like that?” she asked.

“I’ll tell you after I speak about what I came here for,” he said. “So, you’re going to be my Overwatch from now on, and I couldn’t be more excited about that. However, you need to know that we’re not always going to have days like this. You’ll make a mistake, you’ll slip up, but that’s okay. Also, the last woman who was my Overwatch, she was… truly special. I don’t mean to put pressure on you, but you have her mantle now. I don’t expect you to live up to it, but you do need to honour it. However, I have complete and utter faith that you will, because there’s no other person I’d rather have follow in her footsteps than you.”

“That means a lot. Thank you.”

“Goodnight,” said Oliver, as he rose from the bed and headed for the door. She quickly called him back, not forgetting what he’d said before.

“Wait. You still haven’t told me where you’re going,” she said.

“Oh, right… I took what you said about learning how to live again seriously, and that’s what I’m going to go do.”

“How?” she asked, curious.

“Well, to quote one of my favourite movies… I gotta go see about a girl.”

* * *

As soon as Oliver found himself in front of apartment 4A, his anxiety became palpable as his heart pounded against his chest. He consciously tried to bring down his heart rate with a breathing technique he’d learned from Tatsu in Hong Kong, but right now, it was working only to a small degree. He couldn’t understand how he was more nervous right now than he was before he fought Azrael. It was honestly comical, but certainly no laughing matter to him. He eventually found himself calm enough to knock on the door. A few seconds later, the door opened.

“Hey,” said Kara, as she opened the door.

“Hi,” replied Oliver. “Sorry to bother you so late, I just really need to talk to you. Can I come in?” he asked. It was just past midnight on Earth-38 like on Earth-1, but Kara had no problem with letting Oliver in.

“Yeah, sure,” she replied as she stepped aside for him to enter. He took several steps in and scanned the apartment. He hadn’t been here in over two years, but it was still relatively the same, with only a few decorations having changed. “So, what do you need to talk about?” she asked, as she walked around to in front of him.

Oliver took a deep breath before speaking. “First of all, I just want to say thank you again. Not just for saving my life and helping me save the city, but also for being there for me when you weren’t obligated to.”

“You know you don’t have to me thank me for that, Oliver.”

“I know, because I didn’t just come here to say that. What I really came here to say is that… I… Gosh I thought this would be easier.”

“It’s okay, Oliver, don’t be nervous,” she said, giggling. “You know you can talk to me about anything. Just say it.”

In that moment when he saw her smile, the one that he’d seen a million times before yet never failed to mesmerise him, Oliver ‘turned off’ his head and began speaking purely from his heart.

“Over the past few months, I have had to endure a lot. I lost purpose, and I ended up not knowing how to live anymore. It was due to a lot of things, but one of the main reasons was because I didn’t have you in my life anymore. I’m sorry that I pushed you away. I thought I was doing it to protect you, but now I know that I just ended up hurting you. I’ve realised that I have wasted so much time in my life, and I don’t want to waste any more. I guess what I’m really trying to say is that… I still love you, Kara, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I just want to know if you still feel the same way.”

He gazed deeply into her ocean blue eyes, unable to anticipate what her answer would be. Her immediate answer was not with her words, as she closed the distance between them, planting her lips firmly on his. The kiss was gentle at first, but it gradually became more intense and passionate.

“Of course I do,” she said in between breaths, as their lips continued to delicately play with each other’s, causing fervent flutters in their stomachs to rise up to their chest.

Even as they moved to her bedroom, their lips barely parted except for the occasional breath of air. They revitalised their love, and it was in those moments that for the first time in a long time, both Oliver Queen and Kara Danvers felt not just truly happy, but at blissful peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.
> 
> I've been working on this story since April of last year, pouring my heart and soul into it, and I hope that you've all enjoyed it. Thank you to my beta (Kara Smoak on FFN and AO3) for helping me, and a massive thank you to all of you for reading and leaving kudos and comments. 
> 
> I really love what I've built with this universe, and I'm pleased to tell you all that I've begun work on a prequel to this story. Taking place in mid-2019, it will follow Oliver and Kara as they begin dating, transitioning from friends to romantic partners. It'll carry a much lighter tone than this story, with minimal action and more humourous character interactions. The first chapter should be up within the next two weeks :)


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